Remember December
by Gr8BigNerd
Summary: Explores House and Cuddy's history before the series began, and how their relationship has evolved since. Rated M for eventual adult situations...just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have been playing with the idea of writing this fic for awhile...what House and Cuddy were like together in college is very interesting to me. This story will eventually get into what happens after college and up through the begining of the series and then how they got to where they are right now...it is not, nor will it become a kid fic, but it will play with themes behind why House is so invested in Cuddy's quest to become a mother. I am pretty happy with the way the story is coming together and I'd love to know what you guys think as I go along.

**Remember December  
**

Chapter one

"Lisa Cuddy, Greg House. House, this is my girlfriend Lisa." Jack Fitz, one of House's fellow med-students, had invited him over to play poker before the start of the fall semester, and was eager to introduce him to the new girlfriend. House eyed the beautiful young woman in front of him. She was tall and had a runner's body: sculpted and lean. She wore fitted blue jeans and a NY Jets jersey cut off at the waist. Her face was soft, and her long brown hair fell over her shoulders while grey eyes danced over him. She was a startling sight and House understood why his friend was so proud to call her his. "I thought you two might get on pretty well. Lisa's pre-med, she's been accepted to the medical school for next year," Jack said.

"Nice," was all House said as he overtly raked his eyes over her trim figure and delicate curves.

Lisa stuck her hand out. "Good to meet you, Greg." She of course already knew about him, the handsome, brilliant, trouble maker and an abrasive smart ass. He had caused a bit of an embarrassment earlier in the year when he, a mere med-student, called a case that had stumped several of his professors and was right where they had been wrong. It was little wonder every pretty young woman on this campus was creaming in her panties over him. And from what Lisa had heard, he was always more than happy to oblige them. House didn't reach out to shake Cuddy's hand he just looked over at Jack and smiled.

"You know," House said to his friend but directed his gaze back to Cuddy, "if you wanted to break up with your girlfriend there are other ways of going about it than introducing her to me," House smirked at her, "Although it's good to stick to what's been proven effective I suppose." House turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Jack smiled at her apologetically then followed after House. Standing around the kitchen table sipping beers were House and two other fellow grad students, Jason Burke and Donald Hills.

"Would it kill you to be nice to her?" Jack said. Jack was a very good guy. Polite and ambitious. He had classic good looks, and House was sure he would one day open a private family practice in some suburban wasteland and settle down with a family and a dog and an SUV and make little impact on the outside world. Nothing too exciting about him but he did have a great house and free beer.

"I thought we were playing poker," House said. "Where's your fifth?"

Cuddy stepped into the doorway shuffling a deck of cards. "She's right here," she said to him.

House looked over at Jack. "You've got to be kidding."

"She's very good," Jason said reaching for another beer and handing it to her.

"She's a girl," House whined.

Cuddy took the beer from Jason and, without missing a beat, stepped close to House, assaulting his personal space and causing him to back away slightly. "House," she said in a voice that was sweet and calm but daring beneath the surface, "If you don't want to play that'd be alright with me. If I were you I wouldn't want to risk losing all my money," she paused and looked past House for the bottle opener sitting on the counter next to him, "to a girl." Cuddy reached around him and grabbed the bottle opener, cracked her beer open and touched it to the top of his. "Cheers," she smiled and spun away heading back into the living room.

Jack smiled and glanced over at House who was visibly taken off his guard. "Game on?" Jack asked. Jason and Donald snickered under their breath as House just started after Cuddy.

"Goddamn right," he said and followed her into the living room.

* * *

The next week, House came back for another game, despite having lost nearly a hundred dollars to Cuddy the week before. He had been knocked off his balance by this gorgeous charming girl who was fully able to hold her own with him. House was used being around beautiful girls; even smart beautiful girls weren't as much of a rarity as most people thought. But a smart beautiful, witty and evocative girl who was also on track to be a doctor and who seemed to have a strange way about her when it came to him, caught House off guard at first. But he fared much better this time around. He came this week having braced himself for her; ready even to make her as uncomfortable as she had him the week before.

After they got tired of playing cards House lit a cigar and the other four of them followed him out onto the deck. They had been drinking for most of the night and weren't giving up yet. Jason dragged the cooler out onto the deck with them. Cuddy sat on the porch swing and tucked her legs underneath her. Jack followed close behind and sat himself beside her. He dropped his arm lazily behind her and House watched them intently as Jack smoothed his fingers over her bare shoulder and upper arm.

"What did you think about my Wegener's diagnosis on the cheerleader chic?" House asked the group, though he was still staring at Cuddy. She smirked, not surprised that House wanted to talk about himself and his brilliance.

"She was a gymnast, not a cheerleader," Cuddy said. "And I think it was a very lucky call."

House smiled."Lucky?"

"Of course if anyone had bothered to question the abnormal results of the basic antibody test they ran on her admission way back at the beginning and run an ANCA, you would've discovered the Wegener's three weeks before her kidneys shut down and she had to have a transplant." Cuddy leaned back against Jack.

Jack and House exchanged surprised expressions. "You think of that brilliant idea before or after she was cured?" House asked her. He knew damn well she wouldn't have even had access to the file until long after the case was solved.

"After. What's your point?"

House shrugged. "You're not going to impress anyone until you're able to throw something like that out during a case while the patient is still sick and they're still looking for the answer. Otherwise you're just speculating. That is why I'm the boy genius and future world famous diagnostician and you're the surly undergrad who has pent up sexual frustration and a chip on her shoulder with something to prove."

Jack stopped stroking her shoulder and she stared at House with her mouth slightly agape. _Yes!_ House thought. He had thrown her, and at least momentarily rendered her speechless. House's smile grew wider. "You wanna have dinner with me sometime?" He asked her.

"House!" Jack said, "I'm sitting right here."

"Would you rather me hit on your woman behind your back?"

"I'd rather—" Cuddy stopped him with a hand on his thigh.

"House," she said, "I think you're going to have to cut yourself off after three of those," she pointed at the beer in his hand with her own. "You clearly can't hold your drink; you start talking crazy." She smiled at him briefly and House laughed. Either she was trying to defect embarrassing him because she was turning him down or she didn't want to indulge this flirtation in front of her boyfriend. The two held each other's gaze for what felt like several minutes. Jack shook his head and stood up.

"I'm going to take a piss," he said. Cuddy stood up with him and Jack caught her arms and pulled her into a deep kiss. House didn't look away, though Cuddy was clearly uncomfortable with the exchange.

"I'm gonna put House in a cab," she said when they had broken apart.

Jack stumbled back into the house leaving House and Cuddy alone on the deck. She stared after Jack and when he was out of view she turned to find House watching her. "I don't need a cab," he said. "I rode my motorcycle."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You're drunk I'm not letting you drive home. Leave your bike here; I'll call a cab and you can get it tomorrow." She grabbed his arm and let him back into the house. House glanced behind them and stared at the way her green skirt gripped her ass and hips like a hug.

"Nice." He said. Cuddy let go of him and he fell into a nearby chair, nearly dragging her down with him, but Cuddy regained her balance before he could pull her into his lap. "You wanna split a cab?" He asked her.

Cuddy laughed. "No, House, I'm staying here tonight," she told him as if it were common sense; which House supposed it was. Jack was her boyfriend; of course she would spend the night with him.

The cab pulled up outside the house within a few minutes and House stood up grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair where he had thrown it earlier that night. "Can I at least get a kiss goodnight?"

"Goodbye House," she said, ignoring his crass advances and maneuvering him toward the door. He slipped his arm around her waist and planted his hand on her hip.

In his daze House pushed his nose into her hair, and took in the scent of cherry blossom and vanilla shampoo. "Night Cuddy," was the last thing he said before she released him, gently shoving him away from her and toward the cab at the end of the drive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Remember December**

Chapter Two

It was a habit of Cuddy since she was a teenager to be up before the sun and running in the quiet company of the morning air. Classes started this week and Cuddy saw the lazy idle days of summer overrun by gathering books and schedules, working at the hospital, and mountains of reading each night. These morning runs were usually the only opportunity she afforded herself to clear her mind and just enjoy the moment. Except lately a clear mind afforded the opportunity to think about things she knew she shouldn't. People, men…a man that she knew in her better judgment she should keep as far away from as possible. House's obnoxious banter and witty assertiveness of their last night together at the poker game a few days before had left her feeling shamefully intoxicated. It was bridling. She knew full and well his reputation with women and his propensity for pushing things to their breaking point. She didn't have room for someone like that in her life right now.

So why was it, she wondered, that this morning's run, just like yesterday's, found her jogging past the apartments where she had learned that he lived? _This is ridiculous_, she thought to herself. _You are so close to graduating, to moving forward and getting everything you have worked so hard for. You have a great boyfriend and a very respectable sex life. This is a momentary slip, you met someone who is challenging and brilliant and different and you got a little distracted, but now it the time to put that behind you and refocus. _

No sooner than Cuddy had shaken him from her thoughts did she look up to see him standing in his entryway, half-dressed, kissing a blond girl in a wrinkled dress. She quickly looked away but not before he caught sight of her and called her name. She ignored him and kept running. House grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and pulled them onto his bare feet. Leaving the girl behind, he took off after Cuddy until he had caught up with her.

House grabbed her arm and she spun around to face him breathless and embarrassed. "I called you, you didn't hear me?" He asked. Cuddy pulled the headphones from her ears, and took another deep breath.

"Sorry," she said. "I guess I wasn't paying attention." She glanced up at House, who was standing before her, his hair messed and his shirt unbuttoned to loose fitting sweatpants barely hanging onto his lean waist. She realized she was staring when he quickly grabbed his shirt and started buttoning it. "What's up?" she asked him.

House shook his head. "I just saw you running. I was gonna go for a run here soon, you think maybe I could—"

"I'm about done," She said quickly. "I was just heading back."

"You run by here a lot?" He asked her, half grinning.

Cuddy ignored the question. "You friend left," she said instead. "She looked mad."

House shrugged. "She wasn't a friend, and she'll get over it I'm sure." He stared at her for a moment and she stared at the ground. "I've been thinking about you," he said.

Cuddy looked up; her face reddened betraying her racing heart. She hoped that House would mistake it for her being flushed from the run. "Wha-what about?"

"Somers is teaching a graduate seminar on diagnostics next semester," he said. "Some pretty basic stuff, but I'm assisting him in the class. If you want I could pull some strings and get you a spot. It would look great on your CV."

Cuddy smiled and let out a terse laugh. "Thanks but—"

"What? You'd pass this up because…why? You don't like me? You hardly know me—"

"House," Cuddy laughed again. His defensiveness cut through the cool exterior and betrayed his nervousness. "I already knew about the seminar and I spoke to Dr. Somers two months ago. He admitted me into the class already."

House laughed at his own foolishness. "Oh. So you're the cute pre-med student he told me about who charmed her way into the class. I should've known. Well good. At least I know I'll get to see more of you then."

"I suppose," she said.

"You never answered me about taking you to dinner."

"House…" Cuddy gestured toward his apartment, "I just saw you kissing a woman outside of your house at six o'clock in the morning. And, I'm dating Jack. You know that."

"Interesting how Jack is your #2 reason for turning me down." His cocky smirk infuriated her and she shook her head.

"I'll see you around House." She spun around and took off running. She was heading further away from her dorm but couldn't turn back because House was still staring at her from the middle of the road.

* * *

House showed up at Jack's house the next Friday to play poker and found Jack, Donald, and Jason smoking cigars around the table in the dining room. And Jason's roommate, some guy whose name House could never remember, but who as House recalled, liked to crush aluminum cans against his head as a show of his viral masculinity.

"House, where've you been? We said seven." Jason asked him.

"Where's Cuddy?" House asked.

"She said she was too busy to play tonight. Grab a seat," Jack said.

"Too busy? It's the weekend."

"I don't know what to tell you man, she's busy and she takes school seriously. I haven't even seen her in a couple of days." Jack told him. He had all but forgotten House's advances toward Cuddy the week before and any residual jealousy he felt was written off as House just being House. "I knew her last year before we started dating. She was never around because she was always working or in class or studying. And when I finally did talk her into coming out she was so fucking distracted it was like you might as well not even be there."

House frowned, but sat at the table anyway and took a beer from Donald. At least Jack wasn't getting to see her either. "And you're dating her anyways? What a looser."

Jack smiled and shrugged, "Nah. It's kind of nice having a girl who's not constantly demanding all my time and attention. And," Jacks smile widened as he dealt a round, "when she does find the time to give me a night to ourselves, it is totally worth it, if you know what I mean." The other guys at the table snickered.

"I share a wall with you dude, I know what you mean," Donald said still laughing. House was horrified. In his fantasies Lisa Cuddy was nervous and reserved. Her other lovers demanded little from her because she was beautiful, and her shyness never allowed her to abandon her senses. In his fantasies it was he who was able unleash something inside her raw and primal; something that came to life under his touch and his alone. It sickened him to hear Jack talk about her like that. Or perhaps it sickened him to know that Jack knew her in a way that House did not. Knew what she was capable of and wasn't shy about making sure that everyone else got a second hand account.

The guys at the table were still laughing when Jack slapped House on the back. "You might as well give it up man. She's a level headed girl; she'd never get mixed up with you. And she's got a good thing with me. We make sense."

"Yeah," House said. "I know lots of girls who are attracted to the guy that 'makes sense.' Never do they end up leaving that boring tool for the emotionally unavailable prick that makes them want to tell him to go to hell while they are ripping their clothes off in front of him."

Jack rolled his eyes. "I told you. Lisa's not that kind of girl. She's smarter than that. It would take a hell of a lot more than you treating her like crap to get her to notice you. You'd have to be…" Jack smiled again. "You'd have to be me." The two of them stared each other down until House finally tossed his cards down on the table.

"I forgot," he said to Jack, "I have an appointment to go fuck you sister for a while." The guys around the table laughed as House stood up and walked out the door.

On the ride home House's insides raged. How was it possible that this girl had gotten to him so badly? She was young and stupid. Well obviously not stupid but a bad character judge to be involved with that…that…really charming, successful and good looking guy. More rage. He had even ironed his shirt tonight and combed his hair for her. House pushed his bike faster and farther down the dark winding road back to his apartment.

* * *

The next morning House was awake and out the door at five am. He ran over to the south end of the campus where Cuddy's dorm was and stood outside waiting for her. Twenty minutes later she stepped into the chilly autumn air and spotted him standing on the other side of the road. She shook her head and crossed the road to meet him.

"Good morning," he smiled at her.

"Stalking me now House? That's not flattering, it's just creepy."

"Hardly," he told her. "I just thought since you couldn't be bothered to come out and play last night, you might like some company this morning, then maybe some coffee."

"I have class at nine."

"On Saturday? God, you really are a geek. Just the run then, that's cool with me."

"I usually do this alone." Her voice was hard and she seemed tired.

"Yeah," he said, "me too. Come on Cuddy, you'll have to really work those buns to keep up with me." He reached out to smack her ass but she jumped out of the way. She laughed and her smile stopped him cold. _How the hell does she do that?_ He wondered. She moved to hit him but he ducked and took off running. Cuddy fell in stride beside him and House smiled to himself.

They ran without a word for about a mile and then Cuddy felt herself start to relax. This was nice, to share the emptiness of the morning with someone. She hadn't felt a comfortable silence in quite some time. The fact that it was him and he was pursuing her seemed so unlikely, but it made her smile none the less.

"What are you thinking about?" House had slowed his pace to a jog as they got close to his apartment.

"What?" She slowed down too, and looked over to find him gazing at her.

"You were grinning. What's on your mind?" He asked her, with just a hint of self-satisfaction in his voice.

"I was just thinking about how ridiculous you look in those shorts," She lied.

House looked down at his red running shorts. They were, now that he thought about it, a little on the short side. He smiled and shrugged. "Just trying to give you a better view my dear." They were walking now as they approached his house. "You sure you don't want to come up and have some coffee before class?"

Cuddy nodded. "I have to get back and shower. Thanks for the company though. This was nice." She smiled at him the enigmatic grin that seemed to stir something in his heart; and of course something in his pants. "See you around House." She turned and started jogging back to her dorm. House watched her until she was completely out of view.

House clenched his jaw and went inside, slamming the door behind him. He walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower, then pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the bathroom floor. He imagined her standing before him. She was becoming more and more untouchable, though in his imagination when he did touch her she didn't recoil, she didn't rebuff him, and she didn't make him chase her. No longer did he think of her as a shy and repressed girl who needed to be coaxed out of her shell. No. House stepped under the water and let the steam engulf him as she invaded the forefront of his mind. Damp hair clung to her neck and sweat beaded her forehead, her breath ragged from the run. House tightened his hand around his shaft and braced himself on the tile wall as he let the images play. Her hands on his chest, him pressing her to the wall her breasts filling his hands, her mouth and tongue hot on his lips. He imagined sinking his fingers into her center and her desperate moans in his ear. He abused himself to the point of exquisite pain as he pictured her sweet pink lips wrapped around his cock and the lust in her eyes as she brought him to the brink. He cried out and tossed his head back on the shower wall as he came into his hand. Exhausted and still unsatisfied, House shampooed his hair and rubbed soap into a washcloth. He knew it for certain now, if there was ever any doubt. He was in trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews...I'd love to hear what more of you think after this one...enjoy!

**Remember December**

Chapter Three.

In the next weeks, House continued to appear outside her dorm in the early mornings, not every day but enough that it became a habit. Enough that she was disappointed on the days he didn't come. The semester dragged on and Cuddy didn't see much of anyone during this busy time. Her morning runs with House, sadly were the height of her social life. That and the occasional dinner with Jack and tussle at his house before getting up in the middle of the night and going home or back to the library. Jack was as romantic and attentive as ever, and Cuddy appreciated his willingness to give her space. It suggested that he was either wonderfully considerate, or that he was finding fulfillment elsewhere (damn House for putting that thought into her head)…but as it turned out, Cuddy didn't really care. She was twenty years old. It's not like she was planning on marrying him. It's not like she was even in love with him for that matter. He was a good guy, he just wasn't…House? She immediately shook the thought loose. Not even.

The Michigan weather was turning cold, and Cuddy pulled her coat tight around her and hurried into the warmth of the library and out of the wind gusts and the early December snowfall outside. Cuddy brushed snow off her coat and headed to the fifth floor and the quietest corner of the library. When she got there though, House was sitting at a table by the window, wearing glasses and concentrating intently on whatever medical text he was reading. She stared at him and when he glanced up and saw her standing there he smiled.

"Who's stalking who?" He said and gestured to an empty chair across from him. Cuddy frowned but walked over and sat down.

"I never thought you stepped foot in this place," she said, "I thought studying was beneath you and your genius."

House smiled. "Don't tell anyone, but I actually do read sometimes."

Cuddy pulled out a bio-chemistry text and opened a notebook in front of her. "Don't let me interrupt you," she said. House shifted in his seat as she bent down to grab a pen from her bag and her cleavage came into full view. He shook his head and wondered if she did that on purpose.

"Hey, you work at the hospital right?" He asked.

Cuddy nodded, "It's just an assistantship in the pathology lab."

"Can you tell me anything about the guy with the weird heart thing that was admitted yesterday?" He dropped his book and she eyed him suspiciously.

"Just that his blood work showed an elevated level of iron in his system. Everything else was normal. Why?"

"Hm. How high was it?"

"I don't remember. House, what are you up to?"

"Elevated iron has been linked to cardiovascular disease. That tracks, but this guy also has gastrointestinal problems."

Cuddy closed her text book and leaned into him. "Is this you trying to come up with another brilliant diagnosis and piss off your superiors?"

House smiled again. "I'm just interested. Dr. Reems uses current cases in his class to get us thinking like doctors working with real patients and high stakes. He thinks it puts pressure on us to find the right answer without there being any real pressure, since you know…none of us are doctors yet."

Cuddy nodded. "So they still don't know what's wrong with him?"

"They seem to be stumped, but I think I've read about these symptoms somewhere before. Or I thought I had but nothing seems to fit everything."

Cuddy tapped her pen against her lips. "Haemolytic anaemia?"

"That's just stupid. Anaemia typically presents with low iron levels…and that doesn't explain the heart. I'd say alcoholism but that would cause liver problems before it caused heart problems."

"The guy is only sixteen. I doubt he's an alcoholic. Maybe anemia is presenting in an atypical way, it's not unheard of."

House rolled his eyes. "Still doesn't explain the heart. You are gonna have to learn to listen if you're going to make it in this field, Cuddy."

They went on this way late into the night; Cuddy acting as a sounding board more than anything else. Her very limited view allowed her to acknowledge if an idea made sense or to reason why another idea didn't fit, but that's about it. In the end House dropped his head onto the table with an aggravate sigh.

"This sucks." He pushed a hand through his hair. Cuddy had long since given up on her own homework to humor him. She had kicked off her shoes and was leafing through yet another medical text and sipping on the coffee House had brought back with him when he left to use the bathroom.

"Maybe we shouldn't be so quick to dismiss a genetic abnormality—"

"Forget it." House lifted his head. He looked tired. "I need to sleep on it. Maybe then something will click." He looked at Cuddy, her hair let down and her feet in cute multi-colored socks propped up in the chair. "This was fun wasn't it?"

Cuddy laughed. "Of course your idea of fun is holding up in the library all night playing guess that sickness."

He feigned a wounded look, "You had a blast, admit it." She answered him with only a small smile and House stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "One of these days I'm going to talk you into playing strip differential with me." He winked at her and she laughed. "I'll see you later Cuddy." He risked planting a goodnight kiss on her but she turned at the last second and it landed on her cheek instead and she pushed him away.

"Goodnight House."

* * *

The next morning House missed their run, but came to the hospital around ten baring gifts. Coffee and a croissant. He found Cuddy in the lab taking an inventory, and watched her briefly without her knowing he was there then, "You were right."

Cuddy spun around and House walked over to the table in the center of the room and held up her coffee. "I was?"

"About the genetic abnormality. Inherited Hemochromatosis. I wrote it off before because of his age but it occurred to me this morning, TFR2 related would start to show signs in adolescence."

Cuddy took the coffee from him. "That would mean his organs were turning to stone. Have you told Dr. Reems?"

House nodded. "He thinks if it were Hemochromatosis there would be symptoms in his liver."

"He's right."

"He's an idiot. We need to run a genetic screen."

Her mouth dropped open slightly. "We? No House."

"Come on Cuddy, it's just a test what will it hurt?"

"I am just an assistant in this lab. I run errands and file paperwork, that's it."

"But you know how."

"I'm not going to do it. If Reems thought—"

"Reems just wants me to be wrong." He took her arm when she started to walk away from him. "It could save his life, Cuddy."

She pulled her arm away. "Don't try to manipulate me, House. Even if your right there's no cure for—"

"It can be managed. I'm sure about this; I just need the test as proof to take to Reems."

Cuddy closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead. "Even if I wanted to help you, there's no more of his blood left to run the screen, you'd have to get another sample."

House frowned then turned and walked out of the lab. He took the stairs down to the third floor where the patient's room was and watched his door for about ten minutes. A nurse House didn't know walked in and adjusted his IV, then left. He spotted a girl he did know, named Roxanne at the nurse's station answering the phones. Never mind the fact that he had slept with her and then never called her again, even if he could charm her into helping him, she wasn't a nurse, she was just a receptionist, so she would be no help in the drawing blood department. The floor temporarily cleared out and House saw his shot. He walked over to the nurse's station.

"Hey there beautiful," he smiled at Roxanne, as innocently as he could manage.

When it registered who he was, the girl's lip twisted into an ugly shape and she crossed her arms. "What do you want?" She asked him in a thick Jersey accent.

House held the smile in place, "I was just thinking about you and thought maybe—"

"Cut the crap Greg."

His smile vanished. "Fine. I need to get into that patient's room over there and I need you to keep an eye out and whistle or something if someone starts to come in there."

"Why? What are you gonna do to him?'

"Nothing that any doctor wouldn't do."

"You're not a doctor."

He glanced around and grabbed a lab coat that was hanging in the corner and slipped it over his shoulders. "You don't know that." He turned and headed toward the room, while Roxanne rolled her eyes but then walked over to the other side of the desk and glanced down the empty hallway.

House grabbed two test tubes from a drawer in the patient's room and crept over to his IV. The patient was asleep, thankfully, or he would've had to put on a bit of a show. House twisted one tube and then the other into the IV and waited for them to fill with blood.

From the desk House heard Roxanne go into a coughing fit. Crap. He slipped the vials in his pocket and peaked through the door. A nurse had just stepped off the elevator. House cursed under his breath and then quickly opened the door and slipped out walking away from the nurse's station and toward the stairwell.

Back in the lab, House placed the vials of blood on the counter in front of Cuddy. She shook her head when she saw him in the lab coat. "I don't even want to know how you got those."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure, it was pretty cleaver?"

She reached for the vials. "And what are you going to say when Reems ask how you got the results?"

"I'll just tell him I'm sleeping with one of the lab techs." Cuddy smiled down at the tubes in her hands.

"They're all guys," she said.

House grimaced. "Well, I can still tell him I'm sleeping with one of them."

Cuddy laughed. "I'll call when I've got something."

"Okay. Oh, and can you also check her iron again?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't push it House."

"Thanks for doing this." He smiled at her and then dropped the pilfered lab coat over a chair before leaving.

When House returned several hours later Cuddy held up a printout for him to see. "I couldn't believe it," she said. "He was positive, it's Genetic Hemochromatosis. You were right."

House smiled and let out a brief laugh. "Seriously?" She nodded and smiled.

"Yeah, but there's no time to celebrate." She pointed to a series of numbers on the sheet she had handed him. "Iron saturation is at 71%. Yesterday it was at 64%."

"Which means he's getting worse. Fast." House's eyes glazed over the test results.

"You have to take this to Dr. Reems so they can get him on a treatment regimen and do a transfusion."

"Hm." House mumbled without looking up at her.

"House?"

"Starting treatment would be faster."

"No, House." She pulled the paper out of his hands, forcing him to look at her. "We need to take this to Reems."

"He won't trust the results because we did the test. If we treat and he starts to get better, then we'll know we were right."

"_We_ aren't going to do anything. They make you finish medical school before you can treat patients on your own for a reason House."

He nodded and took the paper away from her. "You're right." He grabbed the lab coat he had borrowed from the nurse's station earlier that day and headed out of the lab. Cuddy followed close behind him.

"What are you doing, I just said—"

"You're right. I shouldn't involve you anymore. Thanks for helping me." He kept walking toward the elevator without looking at her. She followed him in and they rode down to the pharmacy.

"This is insane. There is no reason—" House stopped her at the pharmacy door.

"Stay here," he said. Several minutes later House emerged from the hospital pharmacy carrying a plastic cup with three pills inside and a bag used for collecting blood donations.

"How did you—"

"I can be a pretty smooth operator when I need to be." He smiled at her but she wasn't laughing. "Treatment," he said. "Medication for the Hemochromatosis, and loss of blood will lead to a drop in iron saturation."

"You are going to get kicked out of school," she said, her voice firm and angry.

"Kicked out for what? Saving some kids life?" They were headed toward the stairs and back up to the third floor. As they stepped out of the stairwell and approached the patient's room, Dr. Reems and a nurse stepped in front of them.

"What do you two think you're doing?"

* * *

An hour later House and Cuddy were called in. Dr. Reems paced around the room and the dean, Dr. Grey sat at his desk rubbing his temples with knobby fingers.

"I don't even know where to begin," Dr. Grey said.

Reems stepped over to House, "Let's start with you taking it upon yourself to perform medical procedures on a patient, performing tests without getting my consent or the patients, lying to a pharmacist, attempting to—"

Dr. Grey stood up. "Alright Michal, calm down." He walked around the desk and leaned against the edge. He looked pointedly at Cuddy. "Miss Cuddy, I'm not sure how you managed to become involved in all of this, but your participation was irresponsible and you completely overstepped you're boundaries as an assistant in the laboratory."

Cuddy's eyes hit the floor. "I know that sir."

"That being said, I would hate to see your record tarnished with a formal reprimand, so I am ordering a temporary probationary period set for your assistantship, and assuming you can make it 60 days without further incident, we can put this behind us."

Cuddy looked up in surprise. "But," Grey continued, "I hope you will use better discretion in the future with who you chose to associate yourself with." Cuddy glanced over at House who was scowling at Dr. Reems. He looked over at her briefly and shook his head. "That's all Miss Cuddy. You're excused." Cuddy nodded slowly and then left the room leaving House and the two angry men to decide what deserved to happen to him.

Cuddy walked outside of the hospital's side entrance defeated. She stood in the cold and waited. She had her coat wrapped tight around her, and her bag slung over one shoulder, when about an hour later House appeared pushed open the door and stepped into the cold. "Well?" she asked him.

House shrugged, he was angry but deflecting. "Slap on the wrist, no biggie." He stepped past her and started the trek back to his motorcycle parked at the rear of the building.

Cuddy shook her head, furious. "You do this on purpose. It's not enough for you to get noticed by doing good work. You're not happy unless you've broken a rule or pushed the limits and pissed someone off."

House stopped walking and turned to face her. "Was I wrong?"

"Yes! Yes, you were wrong to draw blood from the patient yourself, you were wrong to think you could treat her yourself instead of just handing over the results to her doctors. You didn't have to do all of that. Even if they would have questioned the accuracy of the test I ran, it would have forced them to retest when and they would've gotten the same result and had to treat her. You wanted to be the one to do it, because being right wasn't enough. You put your career at risk and mine. And now you're wrong for not acknowledging that what you did was wrong." She had worked herself up and her breathing had become ragged in the cold wind. "This is why I could never…"

"Could never what?"

Cuddy shook her head. She was angry that she let herself be dragged into this. "Forget it."

"No, finish what you started. This is why you could never, what?" House had stepped close to her. He was pissed at Reems and the others because Cuddy was wrong: being right was all that mattered. What he did probably saved that guys life but they refused to acknowledge it, and now Cuddy standing in front of him was saying the same thing. And not only was she condemning what he did, she was using it as a reason not to be with him.

Her face softened and she put a hand on his arm. He recognized that in the few months they had known each other this was the first time she had touched him, on her own volition without pretext or reason. His eyes wandered down to where her fingers clinched his elbow. "House, I understand why you did what you did. You made the right call. You saved him. But sometimes you have to know when to step back because I don't care how brilliant you are, you won't always be right and one of these days you'll get one wrong and you _will_ kill someone."

He stared at her for a moment. His hot breath mixing with the cold air, and he moved his arm so that he could grasp her hand. "Are you…trying to protect me?"

"I am trying to get you to understand that there are some lines you can't cross."

"Yeah I get that. You don't want me crossing lines." House nodded as he stared at her, tiny bits of snow sticking to her coat and clinging to her hair. She didn't break his stare though she felt the conversation had ended, and she didn't wretch away when his hand moved up her arm to her neck and his fingers sunk into her hair pulling her toward him. His lips crashed down on hers in a viral assault and she did not fight back. Her mind dazed as he feasted on her lips and slipped his tongue out to taste her. She dropped her bag in the snow at her feet and wrapped her arms around him pulling herself closer still. Time had stopped and Cuddy's mind was not working. She moved her hands into his hair, damp from the snow and parted her lips to let him inside. Her breath was hot on his. He raked his hands over her back, pressing her to his chest, unwilling to release her. Even when he tipped his head away and broke the kiss he crushed her against him. Cuddy kept her eyes closed and her mouth inches from engulfing him again. But she waited a micro-second too long and her senses took over. She gripped his upper arms and extracted herself from his grasp.

"I need to go." Was all she said before stepping away and leaving him standing in the cold yet again, his eyes still closed and head tipped to his chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello all! So sorry for the long break between updates...should get better after the holidays...and thanks so much for the reviews...for those wondering when this story will earn its M rating you will have to wait just a bit longer...but not much...enjoy!

**Remember December**

Chapter Four

Cuddy sat at her desk in her completely darkened dorm room, a small reading lamp in the corner providing the only light. She tried to work, tried to concentrate but her thoughts kept wandering back to him. She had made a mistake. She screwed up, though now she couldn't decide if the mistake was in kissing him, or in pushing him away.

It was no secret that she had always put herself first, her education, her work, her goals. It was a defense mechanism. Stay focused and concentrate on school; if you never put your heart out there it can never get broken. That's why she attached herself to guys who were no challenge. Guys like Jack who were nice enough and had similar interests and values, but there was nothing fascinating or engaging about them. House was different. She had never met anyone like him and it terrified her. Not only was she more likely to fall for him but he was more likely to break her heart. A chance she wasn't willing to take right now.

And a chance that may never come around again.

Cuddy jumped at a harsh knock on her door. She knocked over a stack of books which clattered to the floor. She knew it was House. Who else would it be? She glanced down at the scant pajamas she was wearing and then looked around furiously for a robe.

A few seconds later she opened that door. House was leaning on the frame with her bag slung over his shoulder. She had left it behind when she took off from the hospital. He seemed somehow surprised to see her standing in front of him. He looked around her barely lit room.

"I hope I didn't wake you up." Cuddy didn't answer but she shook her head, no. House nodded and then extended the bag out to her. "I just wanted to stop by and show you what a nice guy I can be, by returning this to its rightful and sexy owner." His attempt at a joke earned him the hint of a smile behind her tired eyes but it was gone in an instance.

"House…"

"You didn't need to take off like that." He dropped the bag inside her door, but she didn't invite him in.

"I did. I didn't mean to lead you on, I—"

"Don't—"

"What do you want from me?" She was yelling now, and though he fully expected to come here tonight and provoke an argument which just might cause her to kiss him again…her instant resistance stung. And now she wants to know what he wants from her.

"For starters," he said. "I want to kiss you again and I want you to not run away. Then I want you break up with Jack. I want to have sex with you and take you out to dinner. Not necessarily in that order. Then I want more sex and more dinners. I want to talk to you and I want you to talk to me. I want you to trust me enough to know that I am serious about you, and I'm not interested in messing with your anal retentive attention to your work and I'm not the type who would put so much effort into pursuing a girl just to screw her over."

Cuddy stared at him for a moment, and then in a defeated voice, just above a whisper, "I can't."

"Why not?" He almost shouted, "And don't say it's because of Jack."

Cuddy shook her head. "Jack is good for me. He's low maintenance and easy to be around. I like my life without drama or headaches, and I'm sorry but you are not that guy."

"Oh, so you're saying that you like him because he's boring?"

"If you want to take it like that."

House shook his head, "That can't be good enough for you. If it is, then you're not the kind of girl I thought you were."

"It's good enough for right now," she said in a soft voice. She hated herself for the admission. She hated to hear herself tell him that no, she's not the girl he thought. She isn't what he wants or needs, and she wasn't willing to put herself out there for him. Her insides screamed at her to take it back. She was driven mad by trying to avoid heartbreak that she missed herself falling for him. She was breaking her own heart and she was too damn stubborn to stop it.

House's disappointed gaze stung her at her core. He reached out and touched her arm, fingered her silk nightgown and slid his palm over her elbow.

"Cuddy." He was straining. She had hurt his pride and had driven him to beg for her. In the few months that he had known her, House had found himself acting more and more in ways that were foreign to him. She was becoming something to him that he had never thought was possible. And he was terrified of losing that, or even more of having it dangled before him like a prize he would forever chase but never win. His grip on her arm tightened slightly. "There is no half-way. I want to be with you, but I won't keep chasing you or trying to prove that I'm the guy you want me to be. If you don't want to see me, then this is it. We can't be friends anymore; I won't play that game."

"All or nothing?" Cuddy asked with a trace of tears starting to pool in her eyes.

House's fingers played across the slick fabric once more before letting her go. His eyes hit the ground. "That's right."

Neither of them looked at the other for a long moment. And then Cuddy slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry."

House retreated in disgust. "No," he said. "But you will be. You are killing what could have been something really great, and I—" He took a deep breath and looked directly at her and tipped her chin so that she was forced to look at him. He shook his head again. "This is probably for the best. Look what you do to me. I can't take much more of this."

House dipped his head quickly and stole a quick kiss from her lips. "Goodbye Cuddy." He said and then left her standing in her doorway and he spun around and walked away.

* * *

When Cuddy woke the next morning her eyes were swollen red and her throat was course and cracked. When House left she had curled up on her bed and cried herself to sleep, mourning a loss of something she had never really had to begin with. He had come out of nowhere, and stormed through her comfortable existence, knowing exactly what he wanted and going straight for it. She had never been like that. For her it was always a debate within herself for what was right and she almost always took the safest path, no matter what the sacrifice. But when House didn't get what he wanted his reaction was not to brush it off and bury the disappointment as she would inevitably do, but to act out. Cuddy pushed herself out of bed and trudged into the shower. When she came out she would have washed away all of her feelings of doubt and remorse. She would go to her classes, finish out her final exams, and with any luck not see or speak to him again for a very long time.

The plan worked pretty well. For the most part. She would go running in the morning and the familiar twinge of disappointment would hit her when he wouldn't be standing downstairs waiting for her. But she'd shake it off and go. She would see him in the hospital from time to time and he would stop her with a cold stare but she'd turn away and when she'd look back, he'd be gone. She found a new place to study on another floor of the hospital far away from their late night diagnostic session. Slowly but surely she had suppressed anything she had felt for House and threw herself even deeper into school.

She avoided seeing Jack. She had a valid excuse (finals and all) but it would be easier not to think about House if she didn't have to be reminded of all she didn't have every time she looked at Jack. She knew she was going to have to end it soon.

A couple weeks later winter break had finally come. Cuddy had slaved through her finals and not surprisingly to everyone but herself, came out with perfect scores. House came out with near perfect scores, a reprimand in his file and a warning that one more incident would land him expelled from the university.

Cuddy had promised Jack that she would meet him for lunch and now that school was over she couldn't keep putting him off. She dropped some books off at the library and then pulled her scarf tight around her before pushing open the door and heading out into the harsh wind and snow falling outside.

She struggled with the wind tossing her aimlessly through the snow drifts and nearly collided with a solid object in front of her. The object grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her into a nearby building. Once out of the wind Cuddy spun around and looked up to find House standing in front of her shaking the snow off his coat.

"You're gonna kill yourself," he said.

Cuddy stared at him disjointed and amazed that of course he would be the one to pull her out of the cold. How appropriate. "Sorry…" she finally managed to get out. "I didn't realize how bad it had gotten out there."

House nodded, and looked away from her. He stared out into the endless white outside. "Think we might get a blizzard?"

"I think we might be in the middle of one." She answered. He still wasn't looking at her. "Are—are you going home for Christmas?" She ventured a conversation.

"Are you making small talk," he asked her.

"I was just wondering—"

"No. not this year." There was a bitterness there that Cuddy had not heard from him before.

"Why not?"

House shoved his hands in his pockets and then glanced over at her. "What do you care?" Cuddy shook her head as she was taken off guard by his harsh tone, but couldn't find an answer. "I'm sure you'd find my home life very fascinating, but unfortunately for me we're not best friends so whatever issues I have with my family are none of your business."

He had taken another swipe, and the blows were landing square and resonant. Cuddy squared her shoulders, not backing down from him. "Jack is throwing an end of the semester get together and he wanted me to invite you. I just wanted to see if you'd be in town this weekend. That's it. I have no interest in your personal life whatsoever."

House smirked. "And how is Mr. Good Enough for Right Now?"

Cuddy shook her head. "I think I'll chance the storm," she said and took a step toward the door.

"Whoa, wait." He moved in front of her. "You can't, it's a mess out there."

"It's worse in here," she said, and then pushed past him and ducked back into the snow drift before he could catch her.

* * *

"God damn that woman," House grumbled and pressed his palms into his eyes.

"Sir?" A young sales woman shot him a confused look. House shook his head and pointed inside the cabinet.

"That one," he said.

* * *

By the time House showed up on Jack's doorstep he had almost talked himself out of coming. The young redhead on his arm bounced in time with the wind as House knocked on the door. Jack appeared a few moments later and ushered them inside. He looked approvingly at House's date and slapped him on the back. "Dude! Nice."

House shrugged him off. "Totally dude." He canvassed the house looking for Cuddy but she wasn't anywhere insight. Jack handed him an eggnog.

"I'm five up on you man, you need to catch up." Jack laughed and handed one to the girl, then turned and disappeared into the scourge of drunken guests at his house. House put his drink on a nearby table and turned back to the girl.

"Let's just get out of here."

"Oh come on Greg, this'll be fun." She poked him in the side and then followed Jack into the living room. House rolled his eyes and then followed behind her.

He spotted Cuddy standing in the corner next to Jack, who was laughing hysterically at one of their classmates who was attempting to balance a red Christmas tree ornament on his nose. When she spotted him she froze. House moved closer to the redhead and hung his arm over her shoulder. Cuddy shook her head and turned away from him. House smiled to himself.

As the night dragged on House watched Cuddy and Jack closely. On the surface they were fine; if you didn't know any better you'd think they were a perfectly happy couple. Jack was attentive to her and she wasn't unwelcoming. But underneath it all there was a scathing distance between them. Cuddy flinched at every intimate touch and there was a resentful grimace in Jack's stare when he looked at her. Then after awhile Cuddy disappeared.

House stepped onto the back deck and caught Cuddy standing alone, her back to him. "You put on a very convincing show," he said.

Cuddy tensed up, but didn't turn to face him. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay?"

Cuddy turned around, and House saw her face. She had been crying. "No. I mean what are you doing here, in this house? It's not enough for you to cut me out of your life because I don't want a relationship with you, you need to bring some other girl here and rub it in my face just to hurt me?"

House stepped closer to her. "That's not what I'm doing. But I don't know why it would hurt you. You didn't want me, remember."

Cuddy nodded and turned away from him. "Get out of here House."

"Not yet—"

"No, you need to leave."

House stepped up behind her and placed his arms on her shoulders and rubbed them. Even the partially enclosed deck wasn't enough to fully protect them from the cold. "What's going on Cuddy?" He turned her around in his arms and her hands immediately clung to his shirt and she buried her face against his chest. House shook his head frustrated. So much for his devious plan to treat her like dirt and make her regret ever walking away from him. House hesitantly let his fingers tangle into her hair and stroked the long strands.

"I wish you would have never come around me," she said.

"Yeah," House whispered back into her ear. "Then you could've gone on diluting yourself, and thinking that this is all you want in life." She laughed between a choked sob and looked up at him. "I wish I could make this easier for you. I wish you would stop making things harder than they need to be."

"None of this has anything to do with Jack. It's me, I don't trust myself with you."

House felt a familiar anger swell inside him. He couldn't listen to her reject him yet again. He pulled her back and forced her to look him in the eye. "You are a coward," he told her. "You have no idea what you want or need, and instead of trying to figure it out for yourself, you let other people tell you what's best or what the safest path is. Take a fucking chance Cuddy. Or you'll go on being confused the rest of your life."

Cuddy listened and didn't break his gaze. Things were quiet for a second and then without thinking, without consideration, Cuddy rose up on her toes and pressed her lips against his.

"Oh. Yeah you're right. I'm just imagining things." Cuddy jumped back and spun around to find Jack standing against the back door.

"Jesus Jack—"

"I expected so much more from you than this," he said in a disgusted spiteful voice. "You really are just like every other dumb girl out there."

House still reeling from her kiss, finally shook himself out of his ravine and stepped in between Cuddy and Jack. "Don't talk to her like that asshole."

"Fuck you Greg." Jack took a threatening but unsteady step toward them both. "Why the hell can't you leave well enough alone? She's no different to you than any of the other dozens of random women you drag into bed and throw out in the morning. She meant something to me." Jack looked over at Cuddy who was fuming behind House. "Past tense," he said.

"Jack, you don't know—"

"Save it," he said. "But you should know that he doesn't give a crap about you. And you are going to feel so stupid after this is over. It'll be a good lesson for you."

"Go to hell," she told him. House grasped her hand but she pulled it away and looked up at him. "And you go to hell too." She looked between them and then pushed past House and stormed back into the house and out the front door.

* * *

House was still muttering and cursing when he pulled his motorcycle up in front of his apartment. The bike skidded to a stop and nearly slid into the side of the building. Not riding weather. He winced when he pulled off his helmet. After Cuddy had stormed off House couldn't hold back the impulse to go after Jack. His insults and provocation earned him a black eye, though House decided that in the end, he gave as good as he got.

Before he reached his door he saw a small figure sitting on his step curled up inside an oversized coat. "If that's not Lisa Cuddy buried under all that, then go away. I'm not in the mood."

Cuddy hadn't heard him come home through all the wind, and so she was surprised when she looked up and saw him there. Even more surprising was the shiner on his left eye.

"You got into a fight?" She asked. House unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

"I had some pent up energy I needed to get out," he said closing the door behind them.

"You're an idiot."

"What are you doing here? I thought you told me to go to hell." House took of his coat and tossed it into the closet by the door, then turned back to her and raised his eyebrows.

"You were out of line, coming to his house like that."

"You didn't seem to think so."

"He's right you know. You could care less about having a relationship with me. You like the chase." She walked into his living room and over to the bar. She fingered the bottles of bourbon and vodka sitting open.

"I think you wouldn't be judging me so harshly if I didn't have such a bad reputation." He followed her into the living room but kept his distance.

"Reputations don't come out of nowhere House."

"Is that why you're here? Come to tell me yet again why you don't want to be with me? I got that message loud and clear, but thanks."

Cuddy unzipped her coat and took it off, tossing it over the back of a chair. "Something like that," she said. Then she leaned against the bar and started to unbutton her shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Guys, I know how frustrating it is to wait so long between updates, and I swear it will pick up after the holidays...in the meantime...This chapter is what I imagine when House talks about the "one night I gave you--" You guys have been awesome with the reviews, I swear I get a happy every time I read one...Enjoy!

**Remember December**

Chapter 5

"Wha-what are you doing?" House asked Cuddy as she undid the last button on her shirt and shifted a bit so that her crème laced bra peeked through. She walked across the room to stand directly in front of him and before he could stop it, his hand reached out and fumbled with the fabric of her open shirt.

"Taking a chance," she said. She tipped her chin up and leaned toward him. She kissed him again, wrapping an arm around his neck. House gripped her waist and pulled her to him.

"Don't start something with me if you're going to change your mind," he warned her once they had broken apart.

She shook her head. "I'm not changing my mind." He stared at her eyes, and saw a hint of fear but they both ignored it and House touched the side of her face. He grabbed her and kissed her again, pushing his tongue past her lips. They explored one another's mouth and anxiously began to move south. House slipped his hands inside of her open blouse. Cuddy shivered at the feeling of his cool hands on her bare skin, and moaned as they traveled up her back. They maneuvered together as House guided her toward his bedroom. She nipped at his earlobe as he kissed his way down her neck and to the top of her breasts. He pushed her shirt off her shoulders and cupped each breast in his hands. He ran his thumbs over the bra and smiled when she shivered again.

Cuddy unbuttoned his shirt and let her hands play across the sparse hairs on his chest. This was surreal to him. House stared at her in wonderment, amazed at how she could be both nervous and uncertain while at the same time, she moved expertly over him with a seemingly instinctual knowledge of how and where to touch him. She pushed him gently down to the bed and then unhooked her bra and let it fall to the ground.

"Wow." House stared up at her half naked body in awe. Now it was her turn to smile. "You're amazing."

"I'm just getting started," she whispered. She bent down to take his lips again and moved quickly over his neck and shoulders. He tangled his hands in her hair and started breathing deeply. She kissed his chest and stomach; she ran her tongue across the line of his jeans and he almost cried out when she moved her hand over his thigh and between his legs, massaging his cock through the rough denim fabric.

He sucked in a deep breath and Cuddy unsnapped his jeans and slid down his zipper. She had rendered him unable to move or breath for fear that he might explode. Such an unforeseen event as this took him completely by surprise and left him unable to react. Kind of like he was watching it in slow motion. House closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the bed. Cuddy slid his jeans and boxers down over his hips and twisted her tongue around his head. House bucked his hips and grabbed her wrist which was massaging itself up and down his shaft. He pulled her up until she was straddling him.

"Don't start something you're not going to let me finish either," he said when she met his eyes.

"Sorry," she smiled. "I thought you had more stamina than that."

House smiled back at the gorgeous brunette rocking against his erection, challenging him, daring him. He laughed. He never allowed himself to connect emotionally or intellectually to any woman, but this girl wouldn't have anything to do with him physically so he had no choice if he wanted to be near her. And he did want to be near her. The thought of it had been all consuming lately. Now that he had her in his bed, he couldn't separate how she was still able to get inside his mind and shake him up. This was exciting for him, because he didn't know what to expect from her. He felt like he could get used to this feeling. Assuming he could keep up with her.

He gripped Cuddy's hips and rolled her underneath him. "I'm pacing myself." He told her as he pulled off her skirt and then reached underneath her, gripping her panties and pulling them over her hips and down her legs. She shivered in the cool air while House raked his eyes over her naked body, and then situated himself over her once again. House covered her with his palm and let his body heat warm her before smoothing his thumb over her clit. She gasped and closed her eyes. He kissed her lips in a rush but then slowed down and took in a breath. His body compulsively wanted to drive into her and rush to completion. But his brain wanted to take in every moment, every smell and every sound that came from her lips. He wanted to memorize every curve and crevice. But Cuddy wasn't having it.

She moved her hands up and over his back then into his hair and pulled him back to look at her again. "What are you trying to prove? Are you taking things slow to try and show me that I'm different?"

"Are you trying to get me to treat you like a whore so that you can prove to yourself that you were right about me all along?" He reached down and gripped her thigh, pulling it up around his waist. He hovered over her and she slowly shook her head no. "You don't have to play games with me Cuddy. It's okay to admit that you like me." He paused and stared at her, trying to gauge her reaction. "I like you," he admitted. "A lot."

Instead of reciprocating the sentiment, Cuddy rose up to kiss him and pulled him down. Both of them moaned in unison as he pushed deeper inside her. They settled into a rhythm of smooth movements and haggard breaths, building in speed and intensity, until her nails dug into his back and he reached his hands beneath her to grip her ass. Cuddy called out to him in an indecipherable wail while House threw himself into her one last time as he came and then collapsed at her side.

The room spun for a few moments before he could regain his senses, but once he did he reached out and circled his arms around her waist and pulled her to his chest.

His breath fell against her back and he nuzzled into her hair. Cuddy smiled. "I like you too," she said.

"Sure," he said without opening his eyes. "You like me now that I've taken you to levels of ecstasy you never even knew existed."

"The thing I like best about you," she said, "is your humble nature." House laughed and then pulled her a little closer. "Hey," she said.

"Hmm?"

"I'm heading home for Christmas tomorrow. I have to be at the airport at noon."

"Are you fishing for a ride?" He asked.

"No. I just—"

"If you don't have to be there until noon then you don't have to leave here until at least ten. We can sleep in and then you can make me breakfast," he whispered against her back. Cuddy smiled, relaxing a little before closing her eyes.

* * *

When Cuddy woke up it was still dark outside and she felt House's finger tracing along the form of her thigh, over her hips and up her side. She shivered when he reached a sensitive spot near her ribs.

"Ticklish?" He asked her.

"No," she lied."What time is it?"

"Around two I think." Cuddy stretched her naked body against his, and his hands roamed over her skin sliding around her breasts and resting on her stomach. He pressed kisses against her back and shoulders. Cuddy let out a soft moan and rocked her ass back into his already budding erection.

House groaned into her hair and clamped his hand down on her hip. "You drive me nuts," he said.

"That's what you get for waking me up," she said in a groggy, yet very sexy slur.

"I woke you up because I remembered something." She turned over in his arms until she met his eyes and he dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "I got you a Christmas present."

"Yeah?"

House nodded. "I meant to give it to you at Jack's party tonight, but I chickened out." He leaned over her and grabbed his jeans from the floor and fished a small cubed jewelry box from the pocket.

He handed it to Cuddy whose eyes widened and she shook her head, "House?"

House rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself," he said as she tipped the lid open. "It's not that kind of ring." Cuddy fingered the simple silver band with a heart in the middle topped with a crown and cupped by a small hand on each side. "It's Irish," he told her. "It's called a Claddagh."

"With my hands I give you my heart and crown it with my love," Cuddy whispered.

"That's pretty good," he said.

"How many co-eds have you given one of these to over the years?"

House rolled his eyes. "Including you? Two. But the first was to Maggie Thompson in the fourth grade and it was made out of paper. I really thought I was going to marry that girl someday. But it wasn't meant to be; Ricky Stones bought her a cookie at lunch one day and that afternoon I heard that she kissed him in the girl's bathroom. Tramp."

Cuddy laughed and took the ring from its box. House took it away from her and sat up in the bed. Cuddy leaned against the headboard and he took her hand. "You wear it on your right hand with the heart facing toward you and it means that your heart belongs to someone." He told her." It's also a symbol of a deep and lasting friendship." He pushed the ring onto her finger, and then looked away from her. "I bought it for you, Cuddy, because I wanted you to know that people who are able to throw me so completely off balance and shake me up the way you do are so rare. I can absolutely see myself in your life twenty or thirty years from now, and that scares me a little bit. But…" House fumbled with her hand in his, and finally looked up at her. "But even if I'm wrong and you don't want to have anything to do with me after tonight, I wanted you to have this, so that you know that you left a mark on me, and I won't forget it."

Cuddy stared at him and down at the ring. Panic seized her chest and she could barely breathe. She came here tonight fully expecting a meaningless night of sex, to prove to him and to herself that she did take risks, that she wasn't hampered down by conventions, and that she could handle anything he threw at her. His honesty, his attempt at a genuine gesture was not a part of the plan. It was, in fact, so unlike what she expected from him that even in that moment, Cuddy doubted his sincerity. She reached inside herself for a sarcastic retort, or gentle brush-off but she came up empty. "Thank you," was all she could muster.

House smiled at her again and nodded, sensing that the tender moment had passed and he should let it. Cuddy wasn't the type to be pressed for anything more than what she gave on her own. That he was quickly coming to understand about her. "You're welcome," he said. "Now, the way you have been wiggling your toes under this blanket has gotten me all excited again. Think you might wanna help me out with that?"

Cuddy's eyes sparkled at him in the dark, partially because of tears she was battling to keep at bay, and partially, House decided, because her eyes always sparkled. "Absolutely," she said pulling him toward her.

House kissed her lips, full and hard, but then fell to her shoulders and collarbone. His hands, which were beginning to know well and love the curves of her body, roamed freely, while his lips found their way to her stomach and thighs. He settled himself between her legs and lifted one firm calf over his shoulder. He pressed a gentle kiss to her labia, and then snaked his tongue out to trace her clit. Cuddy tossed her head back onto the pillow and twisted her hands into his hair. "God—"

"No," he said, smiling up at her. "But thanks for the compliment." Then before she could come out of the moment House pushed his tongue hard against her and snaked it back and forth as Cuddy whimpered above him. When she started to rock with the movement of his lips on her, House took a finger and slipped it inside her. He found a tender spot and didn't release her from the prayer of hands and lips playing over her sex, bringing her closer and closer to the brink. A few moments later, Cuddy bucked her hips into him and yelped in exhausted surrender. House, barely able to contain himself a second longer, allowed her to pull him back up to meet her eyes. He took her lips again, though as he did, he turned her around in his arms until she was gripping the headboard in front of them. He pulled her waist back and grabbed one of her hands, lacing his fingers with hers. He slid into her, deeper than he ever imagined possible and in the instance before he came, a pang of sadness hit him. _How could anything ever live up to this very moment. This is the most perfect anything in his live will ever be._

* * *

The sun, brutal in its early morning assault, woke House from his reverie. The first thing he noticed was that Cuddy was no longer lying next to him. The second was the smell of coffee wafting from his kitchen, and the sound of his shower. Relieved that she hadn't left, House pushed himself off the bed and pulled on a pair of sweat pants that were hanging over the hamper. He padded into the bathroom and was stopped in his tracks by Cuddy's naked figure pulling back the shower curtain.

"Good God," he said. Cuddy spun around, embarrassed, though ultimately exposing more of herself from the front than she had from the back. "Now that is a sight I could get used to waking up to every morning."

Cuddy laughed and pulled a towel around her, as House came up and pressed his lips down on hers. "Good morning," she said.

"Got that right." He kissed her again, deeper this time and wrapped his arms around her now partially covered body. When he pulled back he noticed she was blushing slightly. "want some company?" He nodded toward the shower.

"Yes I do," she said. "But it's already after nine, and I never went home to pack."

House frowned but nodded. "Fine, take your stupid little solo shower." He stole another kiss and then padded off toward the kitchen, in a mock pout.

When Cuddy emerged from the shower, House had pulled on a t-shirt and was seated at his small kitchen table with a coffee in front of him and another in front of an empty seat next to him. He was reading a magazine and grinning foolishly.

Cuddy took a seat without a word. She had stolen a Guess Who? T-shirt from his closet and donned the skirt she had been wearing the night before. Her panties she had found crumpled under his bed and had shoved them into her bag. She took a sip of coffee. Light crème, one sugar. How the hell did he know that? she wondered. She started grinning too as she flipped through the Sunday paper scattered across his table. He glanced up at her and she at him. Then they burst into a giggling fit.

House ran his finger across her wrist. "This feels good. It feels very—"

"Domestic?"

House laughed again. "Well it sounds like crap when you say it." Cuddy smiled and took another sip of her coffee. "Are you going to call me while you're gone?" He asked her.

Cuddy thought on it for a second, then shook her head. "I think I'll just let you miss me for a couple of weeks."

"A couple weeks?! Fuck that, woman you better call me." He said leaning into her.

"Or else what?"

"Or else I might not do this anymore," He told her flicking a bit of hair out of her eyes, the wrapping his fingers into her hair and pulling her into a kiss.

"Fine," she said breathless when he finally turned her loose. "I'll call. But I'll be back before New Year's Eve. We could watch the ball drop together."

House nodded slowly. "Yes. That is one thing we could do on New Year's…I can think of one or two others."

Cuddy smiled slyly over the cup at her lips. She sat down her cup and stood up. He watched her while she slipped on her shoes and coat, then stood up and followed her to the door. He backed her against the wall and placed his hands on the sides of her face.

"Cuddy, I know that coming over here last night was very out of character for you. But I'm glad you did it anyways."

She nodded. "Me too," she whispered, and squeezed his hand, then turned around and walked out of his house.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for the reviews...you guys are rock stars! Here is the next bit...

**Remember December**

Chapter 6

Cuddy closed her eyes once the plane was finally in the air and on its way to Vermont. She took a deep breath when her mind tracked back to the previous night and she felt an instant flush in her cheeks. She never considered herself to be naïve, nor did she ever allow herself to fall too fast or too hard. The result of which was that she cast suspicion on nearly everyone around her. Everyone has an agenda; everyone lies. And now as she played with the idea that House, of all unlikely people, could actually be different, the familiar voice of reason smacked her down. _Don't be stupid_, it told her. _House is the poster boy for narcissism and insincerity._ Still, nights like that and men like him…she would say they were rare but that would be an understatement.

Cuddy smoothed her fingers over the ring he had given her. _The trick_, she decided, _was not to become too invested. Don't push him away but don't start swooning in love for someone you hardly know just because he's exciting. And handsome, and sweet, and brilliant._ She shook her head. _Have fun, but don't expect too much. When it's over, it's over. No big deal, no broken hearts. And wait at least a week before you call him._

_

* * *

  
_

She made it five days. Her mother and sister had left to make an emergency run to the grocery before they closed for Christmas and her father was at work. Again. Cuddy had noticed an odd chill between her parents, though she didn't ask. They were not really the sharing type. Cuddy dragged the phone down the hall to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She twirled the cord around her fingers as she dialed his number. She prayed for the answering machine.

House picked up on the third ring and grunted into the receiver. Cuddy looked at the clock on the wall. 10:00 AM. Crap, he had been sleeping.

"Hi," she said. She heard some shuffling and a bang then more shuffling.

"Cuddles?" He said, his voice slightly more alert.

She laughed. "Merry Christmas."

"Not until tomorrow. I wrote to Santa and asked him to deliver you to my door wearing nothing but a big red bow."

"Hmm, well maybe if had been a good boy this year…" She smiled. She imagined him lounging in his bed, his hair would be mussed from sleep and the sheet barely covering his bare waist.

"That's not nice," he said. "I thought you liked me, but then you drag me to bed, use my body for filthy dirty acts and then don't call me for days. Then when you do call you're mean. God, I feel so used."

She couldn't contain her laugh, and he smiled into the phone, loving that sound. "You are so full of it," she told him. She was glad that he wasn't full of sappy sentiment; he was playing right along with the plan.

"Full of hot studliness you mean. When are you coming back?"

"New Year's Eve. My plane is supposed to get in around one in the afternoon."

He groaned. "You know this is the longest I have ever waited for any woman. My penis is going to hate me for it."

"Tell your penis, I'm sorry and I promise I'll make it up to him when I get back."

House laughed. "That is a promise worth waiting for." A strange silence hung between them for a few seconds, one that was not quite awkward but certainly wasn't comfortable. This silence would come to be well known to the two of them over the years. "Merry Christmas Cuddy," he finally said, his voice softened, and reeking of his longing for her. Though he didn't tell her, House realized he really did miss her.

"Merry Christmas House," she whispered before putting the phone back on the cradle and smiling to herself.

* * *

Two days after Christmas, the tension Cuddy had felt in her parent's home finally came to a head. Mrs. Cuddy had announced very casually that evening at dinner that she spoken to a divorce lawyer and was ready to start the separation proceedings. Mr. Cuddy tossed down his napkin and stormed out of the house. Cuddy's sister, three years older, shook her head spouting that she didn't need this shit right now, gathered up her husband and nine month old son, and followed their father out the door, slamming it behind them.

Cuddy's mother quietly stood up and started washing dishes at the sink, her back to Cuddy, who uncomfortably shifted in her chair, searching for an appropriate response.

"Mom…" She started hesitantly.

"Lisa, this isn't a big deal. Your father and I have been talking about separating for some time now." She didn't turn around and Cuddy got up and went to her mother's side.

"How can you say it's no big deal? Don't you love him anymore?"

Cuddy's mother sat down her sponge and stared into the soapy water.

"Of course I do. He's your father."

"So then why—"

"Lisa someday when you get married you'll understand. After almost thirty years with the same person, you find that the two of you have very little to talk about. Most people ignore it and spend the winter of their lives in misery. I don't want that for us."

Cuddy's heart caught in her throat. House's words from their last night together came into her mind. _I can absolutely see myself in your life twenty or thirty years from now, and that scares me a little bit._ Cuddy closed her eyes and felt a sense of loss. For her parents, for herself. Her eyes welled and she felt like a little child. Cuddy's mom saw how upset she had become and dried her hands on a towel before wrapping her arms around her daughter.

"Shhh, Sweetheart it's okay. We'll be alright."

"It just seems like a lot of history together to be thrown out like the garbage," Cuddy said pushing back tears.

"That's not what we're doing. Sometimes people just can't be together. Sometimes the history is just too much. And it's okay to take a step back. It doesn't mean that the love was never there or even that it goes away. It's just not our time anymore."

* * *

House shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth. This was his sixth lonely meal at the student commons in the past week. The only people left on the campus now were orphans and foreign exchange students who had nowhere else to go. On Christmas day he had called his parent's house and his mother answered.

"_Merry Christmas mom," he had said into the phone._

"_Oh, honey. We really missed you being here this year."_

"_Yeah, well…you know papers and stuff," he mumbled into the phone. _

"_You shouldn't lie to your mother Greg." She scorned him but in the pleasant cheerful way she spoke to everyone in every instance. _

"_I just wanted to tell you that I miss you and I hope you're having a good Christmas." His voice was always soft and formal when he spoke to her. As if he was apologizing for something. As if he were atoning for not being the man his father wanted him to be, which was somehow a reflection on her. _

_She smiled into the phone. "Merry Christmas honey." _

The dull throbbing of loneliness, he rationalized was normal. He felt the disconnect from his family more during the holidays, as anyone would, and in a couple of weeks when his life was back to normal and he had school to focus on he wouldn't feel the loss quite so much. And Cuddy. He would have her to focus on as well. His smile widened. _See_, he thought. _She's already distracting you_.

"Why are you grinning like an idiot?"

House snapped his head up to find Jack standing in front of him. "What the hell do you want?"

"Nothing buddy," Jack slapped a hand down on House's shoulder. "Just wanted to see what you were up to."

House grunted a laugh. "You're awful chipper for a guy who just got dumped."

Jack smirked. "I guess I have you to thank for that, don't I?"

Jack's greasy smile made House uncomfortable. He shrugged. "I wouldn't know actually. I haven't seen her since the party. Since you blackened my eye."

"I'm sorry about that Greg. Really." Jack sank into a chair next to House. "Sometimes I forget what these chicks are like, you know?"

"No," House said. "How are they?"

"Scandalous."

House raised his eyebrows. "Well you seemed to have recovered alright."

Jack nodded. "I have. But I'm not sure about you."

"How's that?"

"She's a manipulator man. She uses people, and ruins reputations." Jack ripped open a pack of sugar and poured it into his coffee. "That could cause a real problem for you since you're a TA in the class she's taking this semester. Am I right?"

House shook his head. "What's your point?"

"Well, you've already got something of a reputation around here, but going into your residency known for your propensity for seducing undergrad students of yours, more so than your medical prowess…well it can't be good for your career." House narrowed his eyes at Jack, but said nothing. "And, not that I care, but think of what getting caught would do to her. No one would ever take her seriously as a doctor if they learned that she was sleeping with her TA's, and God knows who else. She's be a joke, maybe even get her acceptance to med school revoked."

House swallowed, and took a second before speaking so he wouldn't throttle him. "I can understand why you'd think I was screwing around with Cuddy, I am usually irresistible to these girls, but apparently you were right about this one. She wants nothing to do with me. I kissed her that night; she didn't kiss me, and then she told me to go to hell. You were standing right there."

Jack nodded; he didn't buy it for a second. "Maybe. But just in case I talked to Dr. Somers this morning. As you know he's very strict about his TA's not mixing with his students. If he catches you he'll throw her out of the class, or fire you. Or both."

"You're an asshole," House shook his head in disgust. "Just because some girl dumped you—"

"I did this as a friend Greg. We have to watch out for each other around girls like her."

"I told you I'm not seeing her." House was almost shouting and the few other students in the commons turned their attention to his table.

Jack shrugged. "Then you shouldn't have anything to worry about." He stood up and smiled down at House once more. "You should have known better, Greg." He turned on his heel and walked out. House threw the rest of his lunch in the garbage, and cursed as he stormed out of the commons.

After talking with Jack, House went to Dr. Somers' office. The older man wasn't ignorant that Jack had been dating Cuddy and now no longer was. He was also particularly annoyed that this melodrama had made its way into his office. House told him that there was nothing going on between himself and the undergrad, but Somers didn't want to hear it. He told House that whatever happened or was happening better resolve itself before classes started or he would be forced to remove one of them from the class. Even more angered after leaving Somers' office, House was considering going back to Jacks and beating the crap out of him for starting this shit, when he heard his name being called out behind him. Cuddy…

He turned around and saw her trekking through the snow trying to catch up with him. He jogged across the street to meet her. "Hey, I thought you weren't coming back till New Years Eve."

Cuddy caught her breath. "I decided to come back early."

"Damn. I was gonna try for a romantic surprise airport pickup," House said, taking her heavy backpack from her shoulder and slinging it over his own.

She gave him a surprised look. "Aw, well maybe next time. Things are kind of tense at my parent's house right now," her voice dropped and her eyes were suddenly saddened. "I had to get out of there."

"I'm sorry."

Cuddy shrugged before House could ask her anything and thoughts of her parents spilt upset her yet again. "Anyways, I was coming to find you. I thought you might like to have dinner or something tomorrow night."

"Yeah," There was a twinge of disappointment that he wouldn't get to see her tonight, but decided almost instantly that it was for the best. At the moment he was just happy to see her, but House knew that sooner than later he would have to figure out what to do about their new little problem. "Hey you want a ride home?"

"On that?" She pointed to his bike parked on the other side of the street.

"Of course."

"Um, no."

"Oh come on, don't knock it, until you've been taken for a ride on it." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and then handed over his helmet.

Cuddy started at him and then over at the bike. "Okay fine."

On the short ride to her dorms, House enjoyed the feel of her arms clenching his waist tighter and tighter every time he gunned the engine. And the way she seemed to relax a little toward the end even loosening her death grip as they idled at a stoplight and rested her hands on his thighs. When he pulled up in front of her building she hesitated before getting off, and handing him back his helmet.

She smoothed out her hair. "See now I have helmet head."

House laughed and tugged at her windblown mess. "I dig it," he said. "You've got this whole sexy biker chic look working."

Cuddy laughed and pulled her bag off the back. There was that strange silence as she tried to decide whether or not to kiss him goodbye. But before she could do anything, House leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I'll pick you up about seven tomorrow, okay."

Cuddy nodded. "Thanks House. For the ride."

* * *

House didn't sleep much that night. Jack's smug taunts stayed with him, as did the feel of Cuddy's small hands stroking his leg on the bike and her cheek pressed against the back of his leather jacket as she tried to shield herself from the wind. He had never been a very noble character; why would he start now? Why would he let the hollow threats of that stupid twerp get to him like this? _Because they're not idle threats_, he rationalized.

The next evening House picked up some Chinese takeout on his way to Cuddy's place. When she opened the door, House noticed that Cuddy had dressed up and put on make-up. He held up the Chinese food.

"I thought we'd stay in," House said. He couldn't help but smile at how beautiful she looked standing in front of him, dolled up just for him. A real date. A pang of guilt hit him all at once, but he didn't let her see it.

"Oh," she looked slightly disappointed. "Alright." She moved aside and motioned for him to come in.

"I just…I need to talk to you about something and I thought it would be better to talk in private." He looked at the floor uncomfortably but then quickly glanced up and gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise I'll take you out somewhere soon."

Cuddy tossed her purse back down on the table and went into her tiny kitchen to get some plates. "What did you need to talk about?" She called to him from the other room.

House didn't answer, He started to pull white containers from the brown paper bag and set them on her table. He dropped some duck sauce onto his t-shirt and cursed.

"What?" Cuddy asked when she walked back into the room. She had changed out to the dress she was wearing and into some jeans and a loose sweater. She had let her hair down and House noted that she was still wearing the ring he had given her. He stared again lost for words. If it was possible he thought she looked even more beautiful now. She smiled at the stain on his shirt and handed him a napkin.

"Did you really need to talk to me, or did you just want to stay in because it means we'll get into bed faster?' She asked him, dropping down into one of the chairs in front of the table.

House nodded. "Busted." Cuddy raised her eyebrows, and House again seemed uncomfortable. "Remember that really great judgment call you made when you decided to start boning Jack the Slug?" He asked her, taking a seat next to her.

Cuddy laughed. "I don't—"

"Well," House continues interrupting her, "turns out that you are such a good lay that the loss of you is too much for any man to bear. I can certainly attest to that…" He was rambling.

"House? Did something happen while I was gone?"

House nodded slowly. "Jack went to Somers and told him about us." He scooped some Lo mien on her plate and handed her a fork.

"What?" Her voice softened.

"I denied that anything was happening, but now Somers is going to be watching us. It could be really bad if we were to get caught, Cuddy."

She shook her head slowly. "Why would he…"

"Because. He got hurt and now he wants to hurt you."

"What does this mean?" She nervously bit her lower lip. "For us, I mean."

House put down his fork and turned to face her. "Having a relationship with me right now could reflect badly on you. It wouldn't look that great for me either, but I'm not really worried about that. But you…I don't want people to not take you seriously because of me."

Cuddy closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't want that either."

"We need to be careful. And I think, while you are in this class with me, we should cool things off between us." Cuddy opened her eyes and her mouth gaped a little. House realized he had hurt her. This sounded like a break-up, like a brush-off. It sounded like he was trying to be a nice guy about having slept with her, and now walking away from her. "Cuddy, I told you how I feel. I know that maybe you don't believe me and I know that this will do little to make you trust me, but eventually you'll see I'm doing this to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me, House." Cuddy folded her hands across her chest. "We don't have to stop seeing each other, we just don't have to let our personal life get mixed up in—"

"I didn't say we had to stop seeing each other. But if we aren't sleeping together, then there is nothing for anyone to accuse us of."

She shook her head again, confused. "You want us to keep seeing each other but you don't want us to have sex?"

House put a hand over hers. "I don't want anyone else but you. But there will be time for all of that later."

Cuddy pulled away. "I understand." Her retort was distant. She was pushing him away.

"Cuddy—"

"It makes sense. Logically you're right. But if we aren't going to see each other behind closed doors, it would make more sense for us not to see each other socially at all. That would just invite more false speculation."

"You're mad."

"No. I'm just…I should have known better."

"Don't start that shit." He was becoming angry now too. Irrationally he admitted to himself. He was the one who started this.

"It's like you said; there is time for all that later. If it is meant to be, I'm sure we'll get back there." Cuddy thought about her parents. "It's just not our time anymore." The words came out almost in a whisper and Cuddy looked away from him.

"This isn't what I want," he said.

"No. I know that. But we have to do what we have to do, right?" She closed her eyes again and then reopened them and stared at the plate of greasy noodles in front of her. "I think you should go."

"Don't be like that. We don't have to stop yet. We could—"

"What? We could have one or two more romps before school starts. Sort of like a goodbye fuck?" House was caught off guard by her slander. She stood up and walked over to the door, opening it and waiting for him to leave. House stood up and walked over to her, but didn't walk out the door. Instead he backed her up against the door and placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on the door frame blocking her in.

"You're trying to hurt me now," he told her.

"I'm trying to protect myself."

House leaned in to kiss her full on the lips, but Cuddy turned away and his kiss landed on her cheek. He didn't pull back; however, and pressed his nose into her hair, and his heavy breath fell on her ear and neck. "You're not going to be able to stay away from me anymore than I'm going to be able to stay away from you," House whispered.


	7. Chapter 7

**Remember December**

Chapter 7

Cuddy could barely fathom the speed at which the exhilaration and reckless abandon of the past month had come crashing to a bloody thoughtless end. When she closed her door in his face two nights ago, she was enraged. She had promised herself that she wouldn't become too attached to him, but when he told her that he thought they should stop seeing each other, she died a little bit inside and realized that she had become far more than 'attached.' No matter what spin he tried to put on it, what he was doing was walking away from her, plain and simple. Oh, but not before suggesting that they sleep together one last time. Of course, House didn't see it that way, he thought that he was protecting her. Cuddy didn't care. If you really want to be with someone, she rationed, you find a way to make it happen.

Cuddy rolled over in her bed around nine pm on New Year 's Eve when the sound of the phone shook her from her reverie. It was probably House again. He had called a few times in the past couple of days but she didn't answer. She didn't want to talk to him, because she didn't want to fight with him, or listen to him trying to convince her yet again why they shouldn't be seeing each other.

Cuddy let her answering machine pick up and closed her eyes, when she heard his voice. "It's me again." He was irritated by her avoidance. "Pick up….Cuddy. pick up. Look I get why you're mad, but—damn it just answer the phone. Cuddy? It's New Year's you know. You promised me that we could watch the ball drop together…" He waited a few more seconds before hanging up. Cuddy closed her eyes and rolled back over to face the wall. She dozed off; she wasn't sure for how long but woke to the phone ringing again. She threw the covers off of her and stomped over to the phone.

"What?" she said as she snatched it up and held the receiver to her ear.

"Lisa?" It was Jenny, a friend of hers from the dorm. Over the last few weeks Cuddy had almost forgotten that she had friends apart from House.

"Sorry," she stumbled. "I was sleeping."

"On New Year's?"

"I guess I haven't been feeling too great."

"Hmm. Well if you can shake yourself out of sleep long enough to get dressed, a bunch of us are going out tonight. They're having this New Year's thing at that place on ninth, cheap drinks, lots of people."

"I don't know Jen, I—"

"Unless of course you have other plans," she paused on the other end of the line, "with Greg House."

"What?" Cuddy was almost instantly more alert. "Why would you think that—"

"Oh, just talk," Jenny said sweetly. "Jack told us that you guys broke up and he said that you and House…you know…and then there was that fight at Jacks house before Christmas."

"Well he lied. Jesus, just because I don't want to date him anymore, he thinks it's got to be because I'm a slut."

"Hey, forget about him. Come out with us tonight, it's gonna to be fun."

Cuddy nodded. Yes, she decided, she had to get out of this room. "I'll meet you there," she said.

* * *

Half an hour later Cuddy was lining up shots of tequila on the bar. Her friends had scattered almost as soon as they had arrived and Cuddy found herself surrounded on both sides by guys she had never met before, buying her drinks and egging her on. Cuddy looked up at the TV. One hour till midnight. She threw back each shot in succession and the guys roared. She felt a wave of dizziness and motioned to the bartender for another round. The loud music, Billy Squier's masturbation anthem, and the flickering lights above her head, gave a feeling of euphoria, Cuddy wasn't used to. She tossed back two more shots before she finally saw what she came for. Jack was seated in a corner booth with his arm thrown over a sturdy looking blond girl, who from the looks of it had four or five drinks on Cuddy. She smiled, and dropped her glass back onto the bar. On unsteady legs Cuddy made her way over his table.

"Well hey there, baby!" She spouted with a phony smile. "You know I've missed the hell out of you." The blond looked from Cuddy to Jack and Jack frowned sliding out of the booth and taking hold of Cuddy's elbow.

"What the hell are you doing?" He said in a low and angry whisper into her ear.

"I could ask you the same question?" She hissed at him. "If you are upset about the way I treated you, you have good reason to be, but you deal with me. You have no right to make my private life public speculation."

Jack tightened his grip on her arm. "You don't want your private life to be a spectacle then you shouldn't have brought onto my back porch."

"Hey, man!" One of the guys that had been seated around Cuddy called out to Jack. "Let go of her dude." He and another of his friends approached Jack and spun him around to face them.

Jack glanced back at Cuddy. "Jesus, you're worst than I thought. You get bored with Greg already and move on these muscle heads?"

"Yeah right," another new voice, Cuddy turned and found House had come out of nowhere and stepped up behind them. He slapped a hand down on one of the frat guy's back. "If I were doing her, there's no way she'd get bored with me as quickly as she did you, Jack. I know how to keep my women satisfied." House smirked and the frat guys laughed. "I got it from here, dudes. Thanks." The guys exchanged a look, but shrugged and then headed back over to a new circle of girls matriculating at the bar.

House turned to Cuddy. "Come on you little lush," he said with a smile that was almost stern, and extended a hand to her. "Let's get out of here." But Cuddy shoved his hand away.

"I don't need you to rescue me House." She shoved past him and headed for the exit. House shook his head and turned to follow her, but Jack grabbed his arm.

"She said she didn't need you to play hero tonig—" House spun back around before Jack could get out his sentence and pushed him back against the wall. Jack stumbled and was caught off his guard long enough for House to slam his forearm into Jack's neck. House leaned in close and brought his lips to the other man's ear.

"You stay the fuck away from her, you hear me? I don't want another word about her to come out of your mouth, and if I hear anyone even insinuate that you've been spreading rumors about her…" House paused and leaned in just a little bit closer. "You remember your little stunt with that girl in Chicago? Remember I bailed you out then and kept your secret? Keep playing this game and I'll make sure that everyone knows what you did." House leaned back to face a stunned and silenced Jack. He shoved him once more for good measure and then took off once again after Cuddy.

When he caught up to her in the parking lot she was fumbling for her car keys. "You're kidding me right?'

Cuddy spun around to face him. "Stop following me."

"I'm not," he said, suddenly feeling defensive. "I heard Jack would be out here tonight. I…I only imagined that you might come looking for him." Cuddy's chest rose and fell as she looked him dead in the eye, and he smiled at her once again, deciding that angry Cuddy coupled with drunk Cuddy was a pretty hilarious sight to be sure. "Doesn't it kill you how well I know you."

Cuddy finally fished her keys from the bottom of her bag and moved to get into the car, but House stopped her with a hand on her wrist, taking the keys away from her. "Don't be stupid Cuddy," he said dragging her around to the passenger side and shoving her inside. He walked back around to the driver's side and slid in beside her.

House started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Cuddy leaned her head on the passenger side window and pressed a hand to her forehead. House frowned. He almost reached out to squeeze her hand but decided if he did, she'd just end up yelling at him again.

"I think maybe I drank a little too much," she said softly.

House chuckled. "You think?" She nodded, but didn't say anything. "I've been trying to call you; you didn't answer."

Cuddy didn't mover or open her eyes. "Have you changed you mind about us?" She asked him.

House shook his head. "No. And I know you know I'm right. But I would settle for a happy medium. You don't have to cut me out completely."

"I don't want to talk about this now," she said. House glanced over at her. She was squeezing her eyes tight and rubbing her temples. Her face had drained of color and House worried that if he didn't get her home soon she was gonna hurl.

"Fine," he said.

* * *

Once he pulled the car in front of her building, House got out and opened the door for her. She stood up on shaky legs and grabbed his shoulder to balance herself. "Thanks for the ride," she said, letting go of him. "Now go away."

House laughed, and slipped an arm around Cuddy's waist to catch her as she almost went down after tripping up the curb. "I drove your car here," he said. "My bike is back at the bar. I have to spend the night. You can take me back in the morning."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "Can't you just take a cab?"

"On New Year's Eve?"

She frowned. "Fine you can stay. But no funny business."

"Furthest thing from my mind," he said dropping his hand down to cup her ass. Cuddy swatted him away.

"Knock it off," she said, stumbling as House guided her up the stairs toward her floor.

"You love it," he teased her. As they moved through the halls, people were shouting and celebrating. One room's door was left wide open and House caught the TV showing the final countdown to the New Year. House took out Cuddy's key and unlocked her door as the shouts from the hallway sung in unison 10-9-8-7…

House opened Cuddy's door and took her hand, pulling her inside. He shut the door behind them and locked it. When he turned back to Cuddy, she was standing directly in front of him. "Happy New Year," she whispered.

Without hesitation House twisted his hands into her hair and pushed his lips down on hers. She met him with equal intensity, groping at his neck and shoulders, tugging on his shirt, and pulling him toward her bed. House kicked off his shoes and pulled her waist to his, silently cursing himself.

He ran his tongue over her lips and kissed her jaw line leaving a trail up to her ear. "I want you so much, you have to know that."

Cuddy nodded, and raked her fingers across the soft leather of his jacket, and pushed it off his back, letting it fall to the floor. They fell into bed in a clumsy tumble, laughing and kissing. House pushed her dress up over her thighs and stomach, lifted it over her shoulders and tossed it aimlessly across the room. He let his hands roam over her bare skin and traced patterns over the lace of her bra and panties. He stood up and took off his jeans and t-shirt and watched her watching him, smiling, crossing and uncrossing her legs. House laughed and leaned over her, situating himself between her thighs. She reached up again to meet his lips and they rolled over one another, Cuddy eventually coming out on top, cradled in House's arms. Her hands, unsteady but uninhibited by the alcohol, played over his chest and found their way down to the bulge in his boxer shorts. Cuddy licked her lips and smiled down at House.

"Why would anyone want to give this up?" She asked. House closed his eyes. He pulled her to his chest and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tight.

"They'd have to be insane," he agreed. Cuddy smiled and laid her head on his chest as he stroked her hair. Several seconds later her breathing leveled and House rolled his eyes. She had passed out. He looked down at her to see her lips still pressed against his chest and her hand resting on his stomach. He dropped his head back on the pillow and exhaled. _This is not going to work_, he thought. Once you get a taste of Lisa Cuddy, you can't go back to just being friends. He was stupid to think that they could.

* * *

House had not been asleep for very long when he was woken to a pleasant sensation below his waist. Cuddy was stroking his stomach with delicate fingers, playing across the trail of hair on his abs and waistband of his boxers. He closed his eyes took a deep breath, in his sleepy delirium he couldn't tell if she was fully awake or not, but his burgeoning erection was pressing into her thigh with growing intensity. He rolled away from her as best he could but she still trapped half of his body beneath hers and moving away simply gave her better access. She raked her nails across his waist and he groaned. She hadn't spoken or lifted her head so he decided it was possible that she was still asleep. He laid a hand on top of hers stopping her. She wiggled beside him a little but still did not say anything. He closed his eyes again. He could smell her hair and feel the hot caress of her skin locked in his arms. His erection pushed and protested against the harsh fabric, and Cuddy whimpered a soft moan as she curled her fingers into his. He could feel his own heartbeat threatening to shatter his ribcage and only imagined that with her ear pressed to his chest that she could feel it too.

He surrendered at once and moved his hand and hers down past his stomach and into his shorts. She felt him jerk at her touch and immediately locked onto him, yanking his boxers down just enough to free him from his confines there. House tossed his head back as she worked her hand up and down his shaft, rubbing her thumb over the tip and the bead of lubricant that had formed there. She massaged him slowly and deliberately; she tipped her head up and pressed a wet kiss to his throat. He let out a tortured growl and locked one hand around her neck, the other on her hip, pulling her on top of him.

Cuddy opened her eyes for the first time since being pulled out of sleep. She straddled his waist and searched the dark to find his eyes staring back at her. His eyes were pleasing with her and Cuddy reached between her legs pushing aside her panties and guiding herself onto him. House sucked in a deep breath and rocked his hips beneath her. She hovered over him as he reached behind her, snapping off her bra and letting it fall. He stroked his hands over her breasts and made her whimper and she moved over him, in a rapid rhythm. House slid his finger tips over her sides and down to grip her waist. He grinded against her and leaned forward, catching her lips, his tongue hot tangling with hers.

There was a sense of disbelief in their actions this night. A dreamscape. Neither of them wanted to speak for fear of breaking the spell, yet the deep and aching moans and cries were enough to keep them anchored in the moment. In the morning they would question: did this really happen?

Cuddy lifted herself off of his chest and braced her hands on the headboard in front of her. She rocked her hips and House wiggled beneath her, his mind and heart racing. Her cries for release became more desperate with each downward thrust, until House wrapped his strong arms around her, his fingers digging into her lower back until the last siren call came and they both collapsed into one another.

House clutched her tight to his chest and buried his face in her hair. Their breathing was harsh and shaky. House swallowed a knot in his throat and tipped her chin up to look at him. He smoothed her hair and locked onto her penetrating grey eyes. And then he whispered to her words that seemed to come from somewhere outside of himself, raging off his tongue and smashing through his lips before he could stop them…not that, in that moment would he have even cared to. It was a ragged and rare moment of honesty. One of the last the two would share for quite some time.

* * *

A few hours later Cuddy opened her eyes to the morning sun streaming through her window. Her head was spinning and her stomach churned when she realized that House was no longer next to her. She rolled over and saw him sitting in a chair across the room tying his shoe.

Cuddy pushed a hand through her hair. She feared that if she tried to stand too quickly she would vomit. "Hey," she said.

House looked up at her, his face stony. "Hi," his flat greeting cut her, and she suddenly wished she could go back to sleep and try this morning again later. "I was going to head down and see if I can get a cab to take me back to my bike. " He wasn't looking at her.

"I can give you a ride…"

"No," he said. "Just go back to sleep." He finished tying his shoes and stood up reaching for his jacket that was in a crumpled heap on the floor. Cuddy pulled the sheet over her chest and scooted into a sitting position.

"House?" She looked up at him as he turned to leave and then suddenly stopped. He turned back around, still avoiding her eyes and sat down on the bed next to her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You were right. We can't be around each other anymore."

"You're going from, we should still see each other platonically, to I want nothing to do with you anymore?" Cuddy shook her head confused. "I thought that you'd changed your mind," she was looking up at him, hurt evident all over her face, but he continued to hold her at length. "After last night, I thought—"

"Last night was a slip, Cuddy, and it can't happen again. This whole thing is getting out of hand. Every time I get near you all I can think about is when is the next time I'm gonna get to touch you." Cuddy reached out to take his hand but he pulled away clearly shaken. He stood up and started to leave, but Cuddy stood up wrapping the sheet around her and grabbed his arm spinning him around to face her.

"Do you remember what you said to me last night, House?"

He swallowed and then looked at her directly for the first time that morning. "Yes," he whispered. "And I meant it."

"Really?"

"Yet another reason why we shouldn't be together right now."

"That doesn't make any sense—"

"Do you feel the same way?" Cuddy started at him, confused. "Would you honestly say that you are ready to risk our careers for this?" He motioned between them. Cuddy didn't answer she just looked away from him. "Because that's exactly what it would come down to. We have something really special that could be instantly torn apart by any number of things. If Jack doesn't do it, Somer's would, or some random girl that I've pissed off by not calling her or some jealous undergrad who wonders why you get opportunities that he doesn't. Or even us. What happens if we risk everything for this thing and then you find out I'm not the guy you thought I was?"

Cuddy shook her head. "It sounds like this is more than you just wanting to put things on hold for a while until this class is done." The light in the room had suddenly become very bright, assaulting her senses.

"I don't know," House said. "I don't know what happened, Cuddy."

She pressed her hand to the side of her head and squeezed her eyes closed tight. "I feel dizzy."

"It's called a hangover," he sniped, suddenly itching to be away from her, before he made another accidental confession, he couldn't take back. He took a breath and then grasped her hand and led her back to her bed and helped her under the covers. He went into the kitchen and ran some water into a glass and brought it back into her bedroom. "Drink some water and go back to sleep. I'll call you later, okay."

But Cuddy wasn't listening. Besides the violent thuds and ringing in her ears, Cuddy could only hear one thing. House's voice. _I don't know what happened, Cuddy._

She closed her eyes and pulled the covers tighter around her. As she heard the front door slam closed she ignored the tears that had already started to slide down her cheeks.

* * *

A/N: This chapter and the next one to come have been very sad for me to write...I can imagine they may be pretty sad to read too. But I keep reminding myself that I am writing their past to explore how they got to where they are now...which as I see it is a place of enuding love and trust built from a complicated history of heart break and recovery (corny?)....this is just to say that it is going to get worst before it gets a little better before it gets worse again before it starts to get better...but I hope you'll keep reading anyways :) reviews?


	8. Chapter 8

**Remember December**

Chapter 8

House did call Cuddy later that evening but their conversation was short and dry. He asked if she was feeling better, she said she was. He asked if she wanted to come out and have coffee with him to talk, and she told him, as honestly as she could, that she didn't think she was up for another conversation like the one they had that morning, that she would be alright and for him not to worry. His voice was wet with regret when he told her that he was sorry for the way he'd left things, and Cuddy, a little less honest this time, told him she understood.

After they hung up, Cuddy stared at the wall of her dorm for several minutes. She was done with crying and was now moving on to denial and repression. That was the last time they spoke until the day before classes were to start about a week later. House knocked on her door around six-thirty in the morning. A few minutes later Cuddy opened the door still groggy from sleep.

"What do you want?" She asked him.

"I thought you might want to go for a run," he noted her flannel pajamas and sleep mussed hair, "but it looks like you are slacking off in that department. Not smart. You've got a saucy bod now, but you're one of those girls, I can tell, you stop working out and bam! You'll blow up like a sausage."

"House—"

"Come on Cuddy," he pleaded.

"I'm not running today, I don't feel good. I think I've got the flu or something."

"Tomorrow then, if you're feeling better?"

Cuddy shook her head. "What are you doing House?"

He started at her for a second as if he didn't understand the question. "I just—I wanted to see you."

"Too bad. You can't have it both ways. You don't get to say you don't want to see me, and then turn around and say you miss me so now you want to see me."

"Why not?"

"what?" She wasn't sure if she had heard him right. Self-centered ass.

"Why can't I change my mind?"

"Because…because I don't want to be jerked around like that."

"That's not what I'm trying to do, I just miss you. How can you be mad at me for that?"

"Fine," she said a little softer. "You'll see me tomorrow. In class, as your student." She closed the door and padded back into bed.

* * *

The next morning Cuddy stood outside Dr. Somer's classroom for several minutes, trying to decide whether or not she should go inside or drop the class, run home and crawl back into bed. Cuddy looked at her watch and smiled at three girls who moved past her into the room.

A soft hand came down on her shoulder and Cuddy spun around to face Dr. Somers and House. "Aren't you going to take a seat Miss Cuddy?" His smile was warm, but his eyes were stern, and Cuddy couldn't quite be sure but she thought she detected a hint of patronism in his voice. As if her were saying, "I'll be watching you young lady."

She nodded, "Yes sir." Somers gave her a curt nod and then walked into the class room, House followed close behind, pausing to look back at Cuddy with a cocky smile.

"Yes, go take your seat Miss Cuddy," he said and then disappeared into the class.

Cuddy stepped into the class fuming. So that's it…he tried to be sweet and understanding, he tried to be honest and open, but Cuddy didn't buy it or wasn't having it. So he's going to his old fallback: tease her and treat her like crap. Whatever, Cuddy thought, let him take his best shot.

Cuddy made her way toward the back of the room and sat down beside a stiff looking young man with a pocket protector and behind a group of girls, who were giggling stupidly. Cuddy's stomach dropped when she realized what they were laughing about. The leader, Cuddy supposed, the one in the middle, a perky thing with fluffy hair, bright clothes and big eyes, was motioning toward House and smiling.

"He is so perfect, it should be criminal…" she was whispering.

"If he was so perfect," her friend was saying, "then he wouldn't have started ignoring you after he slept with you."

The fluffy haired girl rolled her eyes. "Well, this class seems like it's going to be some pretty tough stuff. Since Greg is the TA, I'll have to be spending lots of extra time with him outside of class so he can—" she smiled an insidious grin, "tutor me." She winked at her friends and Cuddy wanted to die.

_I can't do this_, she thought. _He's whored himself around to every girl on this campus and I have to sit in class and listen to them laugh about it. _

Dr. Somers wrote the course information on the board and then took his glasses off his wide face and cleared his throat. The class quieted down as he rubbed his glasses on a handkerchief and then placed them back on his nose. "This is Introduction to Diagnostic Medicine," he said in a flat voice. "I am Dr. Richard Somers, and this," he gestured back to House, "is Gregory House, he's a medical student and quite an accomplished pain in the ass," Cuddy smiled. She decided that she was going to like Dr. Somers. "Mr. House will be assisting in the course this semester, leading some discussions and working with you outside of class, that sort of thing. If you have any questions, or complaints about the work, you should direct them to him."

Cuddy frowned as the fluffy haired girl smiled and cast a knowing glance to her friend, while another girl sitting near them blushed and smiled at House. Cuddy shook her head and then spent the rest of the period shifting uncomfortably in her seat, watching the clock and waiting for the moment she could make a rush for the door.

She didn't look at House when he handed her the syllabus, and she only half listened as Dr. Somers described the work they would be doing this semester. He then turned to House and tossed him the piece of chalk he had been writing on the board with. "Mr. House is going to share with you a two year-old case in which the doctors who were treating the patient missed something in the patient history which was vital to solving the case. And saving the patient's life as it turned out. He died two days after his admission."

House moved to the front of the class. "Diagnostics is all about finding what's missing. Looking for what isn't there. If you assume that all your patients are going to tell you the truth because they want to get better, you're going to lose a lot of patients." House turned around and wrote a list of symptoms on the board. "45 year old male. Abdominal pain, headaches, blood in the urine, vomiting, and lower limb numbness." He turned back to the class. "What's missing?"

A smart looking guy in the front row piped up. "Blood tests? They would have tested him for drug and alcohol abuse on admittance."

House glanced over at Dr. Somers who nodded. "Drug test were positive for cocaine."

"Well there you go," the smart looking one said. "Cocaine abuse would account for all of those symptoms."

"Your theory is he can't move his legs because he's snorted too much cocaine and so now he's unconscious. That's good except it doesn't explain how he was able to lie to his doctors about not doing drugs in the first place," House said. The sixteen students in the class all looked nervously at one another. Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing.

"DVT," the girl, who earlier had been laughing about her past exploits with House, suggested, "If he's immobile for—". House rolled his eyes.

"You don't get points for blind guesses," he said, and then glanced over at Cuddy who still remained silent.

"Maybe the coke's not relevant," said another guy, sitting near the back.

"Why would you say that?" House asked him, and the guy shrugged.

"You asked us what was missing. The patient's doctors would have known about the cocaine once they got the blood tests back; it has to be something else."

House nodded slowly. "True it can't be _just_ the coke. Doesn't mean the coke's irrelevant." Cuddy glanced over at the guy who looked defeated and started tapping his pencil on the desk. House shook his head and looked around the room.

"This is the best you guys can come up with?" House glanced over at Dr. Somers, and then over at Cuddy once again.

She took a deep breath when she realized that Somers was looking straight at her. She uncrossed her arms. "Was the patient on any other medications?" she asked.

Somers and House exchanged a look. "The patient did not admit to taking any prescription medications," House said. "Why? What are you thinking?"

"Cocaine mixed with some sort of antiretroviral, and an already advanced autoimmune disorder would have botched the liver leading to all of those symptoms. I'm thinking azidothymidine."

"AZT? Nice," House said and smiled at her, the same way he did the first time she took her bra off in front of him.

Somers started laughing from his perch at the front of the room. "If I didn't know any better Greg, I would've thought you fed her that answer. But from the way she's been glaring at you for the past hour, I think not." A couple of the girls in the class looked back at Cuddy, who was blushing furiously. "The patient was in fact self-medicating with azidothymidine for undiagnosed and very advanced HIV. The combination of the AZT and the cocaine weakened his liver and he then contracted hepatitis, which was the official cause of death." Somers looked around the room. "The undergrad guessed right, where most of you had no clue. You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you're going to succeed in this course. And in life for that matter. Except you Miss Cuddy. I'm sure you'll do just fine in here, and in life." He gave her a warm smile. "Dismissed."

Cuddy threw her books in her bag, jumped out of her chair, and headed straight for the door. House pushed his way through the mass of students clamoring to get out of the classroom and caught up with her quickly.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, but she kept on walking until he darted in front of her and blocked her escape. "You look…pale. What's going on?" Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't answer. "You know, you're drawing just as much attention to yourself by refusing to talk to me, as you would if we started making out in the middle of the hallway." He glanced around them at the milling crowd. "I for one think that if we're going to draw attention anyways—" Cuddy pulled herself away from him and headed for the front door.

Once they had left the building, Cuddy stopped walking and turned sharply to face him. "Exactly how many of the girls in that class have you slept with House?"

He stopped short, surprised by the question. "What?"

"Are there any girls in there who don't know what it's like to have sex with you and then be ignored by you?"

"You don't."

"How many?" she asked more forcefully. House ran through the list of girls in the class. He was never very good with names, or with faces. Cleavage on the other hand…

"Two," he said, honestly. "Three including you." Cuddy shook her head, and started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her arm. "Hey, you can't be surprised by the fact that I enjoyed meaningless sexual relationships with girls before you came along. That's not what you're mad about."

"No, I'm mad because I'm guessing that most of them didn't realize it was meaningless to you until you never called them or you told them you didn't want to see them again."

"No," he said, "you're mad because you think I did to you. "

"Yes," she said. "I am, and I can't believe I'm one of _those_ girls."

"You're not!" House let go of her and crossed his arms. "And I don't believe you really think that."

Cuddy lowered her eyes; she was suddenly feeling light headed. She was still profoundly hurt by what those girls were saying about him, though logically she knew it wasn't his fault, but she didn't want House to try and talk her into anything. Right now, the pull to feel like she mattered to him, that she was special to him in some way, might overpower her need to protect herself.

"I think," she said slowly, "that you are going to be nothing but heartbreak for me. I think that we both got pulled into something we weren't expecting and I think that we made it out to mean more than it actually did. And I think that now we need to forget about all that."

House was nearly winded by her words. The wind whipped around them and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't wanna forget it. And neither do you."

"Yes, I do. Everything is not about you, House." Her insistence might have been more believable had she not been so pale and shaking from the cold. House tried to put his arms around her to shield her from the wind but she quickly moved away from him.

"You want to forget everything?" He asked her, and she nodded, yes she did want to forget. "Then how come you're still wearing that ring?" He motioned to the Claddagh still perched on the ring finger of her bare right hand. Cuddy tucked her hands in her sleeves and didn't answer him. She didn't know what to say.

House nodded, taking the hint that this conversation was over, turned and walked away from her.

* * *

Cuddy decided after two weeks of being unable to shake this flu or whatever it was, that it was time to go to the doctor. She had been sitting alone in a white paper gown on a flat table for about twenty minutes before the doctor came in. She sat down across from Cuddy and looked over her file. "Nausea, dizziness, fatigue, vomiting, loss of appetite…no fever, no abdominal pain?"

Cuddy nodded, "For almost two weeks now. "

"When was you're last period?"

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "What? I guess, it was the end of November. Why?"

"I'd like to take some, blood and do a pregnancy test."

Cuddy shook her head. "I'm on birth control, I can't be pregnant."

"Still," the young doctor smiled softly. "I think it'd be a good idea."

* * *

"You're pregnant," the doctor placed her hand on Cuddy's arm, "about five weeks."

Cuddy was stunned beyond belief. "But, I was—"

"It is possible to get pregnant while on the pill. We will need to start you on prenatal vitamins, and set up an appointment with—"

"No," Cuddy said quickly. "I can't do this. I can't have a baby right now."

The doctor frowned and sat down across from Cuddy. "You do have other options. I can have a counselor come and talk to you about adoption…"

"I can't…I can't be pregnant…I'm—I'm getting ready to…if anyone found out—and…oh god, I don't even know who…" her last thought stopped her cold. "I can't have this baby," she said pointedly.

The doctor nodded. "You're early enough along, we can terminate the pregnancy," Cuddy nodded. "But we require that you talk with a counselor and then take twenty-four hours to think it over, just in case you change your mind."

"I won't change my mind," she said.

"Still, you have to take the time, and it would be a good idea to call someone, a parent of friend. On one should go through something like this alone." Cuddy was nodding but she had stopped listening. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep the tears back.

* * *

Cuddy skipped class that afternoon, and went straight home to bed. She fell into a numb and listless heap on the bed and was quickly asleep. No room for tears, no time for thinking. When she woke up in the middle of the night it was to a sharp and steady pain in her abdomen. She rolled out of bed and limped to her bathroom. When she turned on the light and looked down at the dress she had been wearing earlier that day it was stained crimson, and soaking wet.

Cuddy wrapped a long coat around her and stumbled through the halls of her dorm and down to her car, by the time she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street the tears were coming full force driven partly by pain and partly by fear.

She skidded to a stop in front of the emergency room and wiped back the tears as she entered the waiting room and stepped up to the desk.

"Can I help you?" the admitting nurse looked up and her face instantly dropped.

Cuddy opened her mouth and tried to find the words. She unbuttoned the long trench coat she was wearing and revealed her clothes. "There's blood," she whispered, and then snapped her eyes shut as a blinding pain shot through her. Then everything went dark.

* * *

A few days later, Cuddy was back in class. She had called Dr. Somers the day before and told him that she had been sick, but promised she would make up all the work. Somers told her that he was glad she called, he told her that when she didn't show up the other day, House went looking for her, they were worried when she didn't answer. Cuddy went cold when she heard House's name. She stumbled over her words as she told him that she was probably at the doctor's office when he came by. Then she told him she'd see him tomorrow and hung up quickly. Cuddy put her face in her hands and let out yet another sob which she quickly choked back.

Now, sitting in the classroom, Cuddy stared at the front of the class, onto the blank black blackboard, feeling House's stare fixating on her. She fidgeted nervously and even struggled to stay awake. She didn't say a word and when Dr. Somers dismissed the class she quickly gathered up her things. But before she could make her escape, Somers called her to the front of the room. As the other students filed out, Cuddy lowered her eyes and approached him.

"Yes, sir?" She felt House's eyes on her once again. Somers handed her a book and a few pages of notes.

"these are some things we covered while you were ill," he said. "I hope you're feeling better, now. It was nothing too serious?"

"No," Cuddy said quickly. "Just the flu. I'm sorry I didn't say much, I guess I'm still getting my bearings back." Dr. Somers nodded. "Thank you," she said. "For the notes."

After she left, Somers turned to House. "She's a very bright girl." House nodded and continued packing up books and papers that had been turned in that day. "I hope whatever is afflicting her will pass."

House, knowing the man well enough to know when he was dancing around something turned to him and squared his shoulders. "I told you I'm not seeing her. Never was."

Dr. Somers smiled. "What's wrong, Greg?"

"I don't know," he said. "I haven't talked to her in over a week."

"No. I mean what's wrong with you?" Dr. Somers placed a friendly hand on House's back. "You've not been yourself," he said.

House looked away. "I told you," he said, and then lowered his voice. "I'm not seeing her."

* * *

An hour later House was pounding on Cuddy's door. "Go away!" She yelled at him from inside.

"Open the damn door, now!" He shouted. He looked around and noticed the few students in the hallway were alarmed, and he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention. He lowered his voice. "I just want to talk."

A few seconds later Cuddy opened the door and let him in. He stood awkwardly in her living room, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Then he walked over to where she was sitting at a corner table and sat down next to her.

"What's going on?" he asked her.

"Nothing," Cuddy said shaking her head. "I'm fine."

"The hell you are," he said. "Don't lie to me Cuddy. Last week you were ghost white, you were bloated and nauseous, this week your fine physically, but you've been skimping out on school, you look like you're not sleeping, you've been crying." Cuddy looked away from him as tears sprang back, but he touched her chin forcing her to look at him. His eyes were suddenly cold. "You were pregnant," he said. "Now you're not."


	9. Chapter 9

**Remember December**

Chapter 9

"You should've told me," he said. His stare was still icy but he had reached out and was holding her wrist, stroking her hand with his thumb.

"It was none of your business," she told him flatly.

"None of my business?" He let go of her and leaned back in the chair.

"House, I don't have to remind you of this, but I was dating another man when you and I slept together. That baby could have just as easily been his."

"You think I would have cared about that?" Cuddy didn't say anything, because to her the point was moot. "So, you were scared of what would happen if you had a kid right now, especially not knowing for sure who it belonged too, and so you…terminated it?"

Cuddy wrapped her arms around her chest and shook her head. "I was going to. I had an appointment for the next day, but Tuesday night when I came home from the doctor's office…" Cuddy's eyes were bloodshot red and her lips were dry. She pushed a hand through her hair and snaked her tongue out over her bottom lip. "I started cramping in the middle of the night, and then I had a rupture." Cuddy looked up at House. "I drove to the emergency room that night and the next morning the doctor told me that I had had a miscarriage." She nodded and closed her eyes. "He said it was probably stress related."

House closed his eyes and shook his head. "Cuddy—"

"I would have done it," She told him. "The abortion. If not for the miscarriage, I would've gone through with it."

"Were you alone?" He asked her, putting his hand over hers again.

Cuddy nodded, and tears sprang to her eyes. "Yes," she whispered.

House sucked in a breath and pulled her to him. She slipped her arms around his waist, and he stroked her hair. "You should've called someone. If not me, someone you trusted. You shouldn't have—"

Cuddy closed her eyes against him. "I didn't have anyone…I didn't want you to know, and I...it just hurt so much." She grabbed onto his jacket and tucked her head under his chin. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

House swallowed hard. _She_ was apologizing to _him_? He couldn't even find the words to comfort her. There was nothing for him to do, so he just held onto her. Forever they sat together in that chair clinging together until Cuddy finally stood up, saying that she was tired and wanted sleep. House nodded and started to leave, but couldn't. He didn't want to leave her, but he also didn't want to be alone. Instead he surprised her by lying down on the bed next to her and for hours, he held her and she held him.

The sun had set long ago and Cuddy snored softly in his arms. House stared at the wall in the dark. He knew he was going to have to leave soon. She would wake up in the morning and she wouldn't want him there. Falling into the temptation for them to use this as an excuse to cling to one another, to find comfort in their loss would be wrong. Because they hadn't lost anything. Not really. Only now House was feeling the inscrutable disappointment at how badly he had screwed things up between them. Even if he had the best of intentions (and that wasn't always; sometimes he was just running scared), he decided for them, he never let her have her say, and so now she was hurting and it was all because of him.

House slid out from under her, putting a pillow in his place. He leaned down, brushing a piece of hair out of her face, and kissed her cheek. She didn't stir and House slipped out of the room unnoticed.

* * *

The next several weeks were difficult for them both. There was a lot of avoidance, a lot of empty silences, and when they were forced to interact, they had developed a sort of awkward shorthand for tiptoeing around sensitive subjects. It was almost as if they pretended nothing ever happened then they never had to think about what might have been or even what could be.

But that didn't stop them from becoming obsessively concerned about one another. For instance, House noticed that Cuddy had pushed everything she had been feeling about him, about the miscarriage, her parents, and anything else that was bothering her into a little box which she locked up tight and stored at the furthest recesses of her mind. She threw herself into school with such vigorous dedication that only those who knew her well wouldn't be fooled by such an act.

And Cuddy realized that House was becoming slightly more unraveled with each passing day. He was drinking more, his interest in work had faltered to the point where he was offhandedly rejecting offers to let him consult on diagnostics cases, and occasionally not showing up for Dr. Somers class altogether. He spent his nights alone or in large crowds of strangers and when he made attempts to revert back to his fun filled philandering ways, he realized that his heart wasn't in it the way it once was. Cuddy saw him set himself on a downward spiral and she felt responsible.

But when she tried to approach him about it, it was like smashing into a brick wall.

"I'm fine," he told her, when she showed up at his house, one evening. She frowned and crossed her arms until he let her inside.

"You're in trouble House," she told him. "And I feel like…"

"You feel like whatever's wrong with me is your fault. It's not." He walked over to the bar in his kitchen and pulled the top off a beer. He didn't offer her one. "Because, there's nothing wrong with me. I don't want to act like a jerk to you because then you'll think I'm mad at you. I'm not, I'm just…trying to move on."

"Good job," she said folding her arms in front of her. She looked around at his decrepit apartment, noting that he had been sleeping on his couch, that he hadn't done laundry or dishes in some time, and that there were beer cans or whisky bottles decorating every hard surface. "You seem to be moving on just fine."

"Hey, we're not all like you. We can't all get over things in a night, like they never happened." He said.

Cuddy shook her head. "That's not fair. Don't try to blame me for your screw-ups. If you were having a hard time, we could've talked about it and dealt with it. Whatever else happened between us, I'm still your friend. If I wasn't I wouldn't be here."

House clinched his jaw and looked away from her. "I know that," he said. "I just didn't want to make anything any harder for you. And we work really well together when we ignore everything. I guess I was just trying to get us through this class before…" his voice trailed off.

"Before?"

House sat his beer down on the table. "Before I leave," he said. Cuddy drew in a shallow breath. "I spoke with some people I know from John's Hopkins. They are going to let me come back and start my residency there in the fall."

"You're leaving." Cuddy crossed her hands in front of her.

"I need too."

"Because of me?"

"No," he said, irritated. "Because I don't have anything to stay for. If I go back out there and can stay out of trouble, I'll have a lot more opportunities than I do here."

"_If_ you can keep yourself out of trouble." Cuddy turned away from him and walked around his messy and cramped living room. "When will you be leaving?"

"In about a month. End of the semester."

"And if I hadn't come here today, would you have ever told me, or would you have just disappeared?"

"I'm sure it would've come up."

Cuddy shook her head again and bit her lip, to stop it from shaking. "You're just running away," she told him.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, his annoyance with her presence there becoming more and more evident. "It's not that I got a chance to study at a better school or practice at a better hospital, this is all about you. I'm running away because I can't handle my unrequited love for you."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I was stupid to think I could come over here and you would talk to me like a grown up."

"Yeah that was pretty stupid." He stood up and walked over to his front door, swinging it open and looking back at her. "Now if you don't mind, I'm kinda in the middle of something," he said taking another swig of his beer.

* * *

A few weeks later Cuddy found herself in Dr. Somers last class of the semester. She had to admit for her first graduate course, she did pretty well. The day she stood in House's apartment, trying to reach out to him, while he smacked her down every chance he got, was the day she decided that House wasn't the type to respond well to sincerity. He tried to apologize the next day, but Cuddy brushed him off. "It's fine, she said. You're right, it's a good opportunity for you." And that was it. If he wanted or needed to talk to her, he would come to her. That was also the day she took off the ring he had given her. She folded it into a sock and put it in the back of her drawer. The way they felt the night he had given it to her seemed like a world away. Every time she looked at it she was almost able to fool herself into thinking that they were still in that place, or that they could be again. It was a lie and it hurt.

Dr. Somers' students came up to collect their exams and shake hands with him and House. They chatted briefly and left one by one, though when Cuddy gathered her things and came up to say goodbye to Dr. Somers he told her he didn't have her exam, and could she please come to his office later that day and pick it up. She agreed that she would. She glanced over at House who was chatting easily with one of the girls in the class. He gave her a weak smile but said nothing.

Cuddy tapped lightly on Somers office door about an hour later. He called for her to come in and motioned her to close the door behind her. Cuddy was relieved to see that Somers was alone and House was nowhere to be found.

"Take a seat," he told her.

"Was something wrong with my exam?" she asked nervously. Somers chuckled and sifted through a stack of papers, coming up with her blue book.

"Your exam was exemplary," he said. "I just wanted to hand it back personally and tell you that I am very proud of the work that you've done for me. I think you're going to make a wonderful doctor someday."

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "Oh…thank you." She took the exam from him and flipped through it.

"I suppose Greg told you?"

Cuddy nodded without looking up from the test in her lap. "He's going back to Baltimore."

Somers nodded. "It's a good opportunity. He's lucky they let him back in," he said. Cuddy didn't say anything, and he chuckled again. "You know, I've known him a very long time."

Cuddy finally closed the exam and looked up at him. "No, I didn't know that."

Somers nodded. "I served in the Marine Core with his father when I was a young man, and his mother was very kind to me, inviting me over for holiday meals and the like. I practically watched him grow up. I could tell even when he was a boy that he was going to grow up to be something special." Cuddy listened but didn't say anything. "I went into private practice when I left the Marines and when House expressed an interest in studying medicine I wrote recommendations for him, I mentored him, and even when he got into trouble at Hopkins, I stood up for him, and I then convinced him to come here."

Cuddy nodded slowly. She didn't know this man very well, and wasn't quite sure what he was fishing for. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked him.

"In the nearly fifteen years that I have known him, Miss Cuddy, I have never seen him as infatuated with anyone or anything as he has been with you. Not even medicine; his calling, which I assumed to be all great men's great love." Cuddy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, folding her arms across her chest in defense. Somers took his glasses off his nose and started to rub the lenses with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. "When I got wind that there might be something going on between the two of you that might cause trouble for you, I advised Greg to break it off for the time being because I was trying to protect you both. I'm telling you this Miss Cuddy, because I would hate for him to leave with the two of you angry at one another."

"You were trying to protect him," she whispered his words back to him.

Dr. Somers nodded. "He needs that from those close to him, because it is in his nature that he won't protect himself. Always has been." Cuddy echoed in her mind, Houses words from their last morning together before he walked away from her, _I don't know what happened_…

"Well," Dr. Somers sat his glasses down on his desk. "I've meddled too much in business that isn't my own." He gave her a warm smile. "You will be walking in the commencement ceremony this Sunday, will you not?"

"Yes sir," Cuddy said, pulling herself out of her stunned silence.

Somers turned his chair away from her. "Congratulations young lady."

Cuddy stared at him a few moments longer, before turning around and walking out of his office. House would soon be gone, though through Dr. Somers they would hear about each other over the years. Cuddy would work closely with Somers during the first years of medical school, and she would come to think of him as a mentor and a friend. When House was fired from his first hospital two years after completing his residency, when Cuddy finished medical school second in her class, when House received national recognition for a breakthrough article he published on kidney diseases, when Cuddy was appointed to the board at Georgetown, when House was fired a second time…Dr. Somers would call them up and say things like, "you should just give her a call," or "he said he'd really love to hear from you." After so many years apart Cuddy knew the older man was lying but this last time she picked up the phone anyways, and called a contact at St. Francis Hospital in Pennsylvania, and told the director there that she knew a doctor who would be a great addition to their diagnostics department.

_"Dr. Cuddy, you know very well that we don't have a diagnostics department."_

_"Maybe now you do," she told him. House never called her to say thank you._

_It wouldn't be until ten years after House left Michigan that the two of them would see each other again. This time House did pick up the phone to call her. "Cuddy," he said softly into the phone._

_"Hi," she said taken off guard at hearing the sound of his voice._

_"Hi." He was silent for a moment before he blurted out. "Cuddy, Richard Somers died last night."_

* * *

But that would be a decade from now. On this bright Sunday morning in spring, Cuddy would step into a black gown, adjust her cap and tassel, and step onto a stage accepting her passage to the next level. Her parents flew in from Vermont, and Cuddy was happy to see them conversing easily with one another, even though they ended up driving back to separate hotels, before dinner. After the flood of congratulations and well wishes, Cuddy was accosted in the lobby as she tried to grab a moment alone.

"I think I can see your nipples through that gown," House said peeking around a buffet cart.

Cuddy spun around startled, and gave him a slight smile; a peace offering. "It's very cold in here," she said. House laughed and came out of his hiding space. He griped her hand and squeezed.

"I'm proud of you," he told her. Cuddy nodded. "Do you—um…you don't want to have dinner with me tonight, do you?" He asked her.

She glanced up at him. "Yeah—I mean I would, but my parents are here, and I'm meeting them after I run home and change. Can we do it tomorrow night?"

House shook his head. "I'm leaving for Baltimore in the morning." She nodded her understanding. "But, I do have something for you," he said. "a graduation present."

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Can I give you a ride back to your place?" He was smirking.

"I don't understand; what could you possibly have for me that you have to wait until we are in my dorm to give to me?" She was asking as she led the way up the stairs to her dorm.

"Because," he said, resting his hand on the door frame over her head as she unlocked her door, and started to open it. "it's tough to wrap, so I had to bring it here and put it in your dorm while you were gone."

Cuddy turned to look at him, but he reached around her and swung the door the rest of the way open, and motioned for her to go inside. Resting under her windowsill, in place of her old one, was the most beautiful Maplewood desk Cuddy had ever seen. Her eyes grew wide, and she turned back to him.

"Why?"

House laughed. "I know what you meant to say was, 'thank you.'"

"Thank you, but why?"

House shrugged. "You're going to need a good desk next year." Cuddy looked from House to the desk and back. "You know," he said as he walked over to the desk and leaned back against the edge, "you and I have know each other for all of six months, but it has been some of the most wonderful and most frustrating times in my life." He reached out and gripped her hand again. "And now I'm leaving and before I say goodbye for good, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry and…that I um—" he looked away from her and squeezed her hand again. When he opened his mouth again it was no more than a whisper. "I love you Cuddy."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes, and then pulled him into her arms. She hugged him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her head on his chest. House wrapped his arms tight around her waist and rested his forehead on her held him for a long time, there against her new desk, before she stroked her fingers across his neck and whispered, "Is this goodbye for good?"

House kissed his lips to her forehead leaning against his cheek. "I don't know," he said.

* * *

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the wonderful reviews; I love to hear what you think about this one...you are all rockstars.

So this chapter pretty much ends the college days part of the history. What I have beyond this fills in some of the time in between and plays with the events of Three-Stories. What I have been doing is going back and looking at old episodes and trying to fill in the blanks...looking at them again through the history I have written in this story, how they have changed, how and why they might react to things a certain way...so tell me what you think about this one, and then when I get more up, I really want to hear how you think those are coming along.


	10. Chapter 10

**Remember December**

Chapter 10

"This is absurd. I hadn't seen the man in years, why do I need to be here?" House glanced uncomfortably up and down the funeral home lobby. Wilson signed both of their names in the guestbook, and took one the delicate leaflets with the name, _Dr. Richard Somers_, engraved in gold.

"Someone you've known that long, that had so much influence on your life passes away, it's customary to pop in and pay your respects," Wilson said. "What I want to know is why you were okay with me coming out here with you, but you insisted that Stacy stay at home."

House gave his friend a sidelong glance, but then went back to scanning the lobby. "You and I haven't spent much quality time together lately. I figured a funeral was a good time and place for that."

Wilson shook his head. House spotted his parents walking out of the viewing, his mother pressing a tissue to her eyes. She gave him a sad smile and walked over to wrap her arms around him.

"How are you Greg?"

"I'm okay mom," he looked back at Wilson. "Mom, dad, this is James Wilson. I work with him at Bellview."

House's mother and father shook Wilson's hand. "Did you know Richard?" His mother asked. His father had given House a curt nod and then made his way to a group of Marines standing in the corner.

"No, I didn't. I've heard a lot about him from your son though." House's mom smiled, pleased to know that Richard Somers still had a place in her son's life.

House was still staring across the lobby when Cuddy stepped through the funeral parlor doors. He caught his breath. It had been so long since he had seen her; he'd almost forgotten how lovely she was. But her girlish stature had been replaced with a confident classic air of a woman who had found her place amongst her male peers. She commanded respect, but was charming and likable at the same time. She had a flawless and deliberate way about her when she moved. House glanced back at his mother and Wilson who were talking about Somers' sudden stroke, and then he looked back over at Cuddy. She had signed the guestbook and then looked around her, trying to locate the room where the viewing was being held.

She spotted House almost immediately, and smiled softly at him. House excused himself to Wilson and his mother and walked over to where she was standing. "Hi," he said in a low awkward voice.

Cuddy smiled a little wider. "You look good," she said.

House grunted a laugh. "You look amazing." They stared at one another a little longer than was socially acceptable, before Wilson appeared next to House.

"Hey," he said to House and then followed his eyes over to Cuddy. "Oh…hi." He said and smiled and stuck his hand out. "James Wilson."

House frowned and looked away as Cuddy shook his hand. "Wilson, this is Lisa Cuddy. We went to school together." He spoke in mumbles, annoyed that Wilson interrupted them. He hadn't see the woman in ten years and Wilson wiggles in and—

"Nice to meet you," she said and then looked over at House, "I'm gonna go in," she said softly, nodding to the viewing room.

As she stepped away from them Wilson raised his brow and smiled. "Wow," he said. "She's—"

House frowned again. "Didn't you just get married?"

"Is she the reason you didn't want Stacy to come?"

House rolled his eyes. "I barely know her," he said. "Would you please stop trying to analyze me?" He turned away from Wilson and followed Cuddy into the room where Somers' body was laid out in a nice suit and a large oak coffin.

He stepped up behind her. "When I was a kid I thought this man would live forever," House kind of laughed. "He was always there for me." House left off the part about how Richard Somers was always there for him even when his own father wasn't. But it had not been lost on him from the moment his mother called him with the news, that this might be the closest he would ever come to mourning the death of a father.

Cuddy looked back at him. Her eyes were moist but she smiled. "He was a good man."

House nodded. "It's good to see you Cuddy." She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It's good to see you too," she said. She let go of his hand and they stepped out of the room and into a small sitting area off the main hallway.

"How has Pennsylvania been treating you?" She asked him when they were alone again.

"Um…not too good. I left a few months ago."

Cuddy shook her head. "Left or got fired?"

House shrugged. "I guess it depends on who you ask. I'm at Bellview Memorial now on Long Island."

Cuddy laughed. "New York, Wow. How did that happen?"

"You see that guy over there?" He motioned into the hall at Wilson. "The one that hasn't been able to stop drooling over you since you walked in." Cuddy laughed. "He's a friend of mine. He got me the job."

"Well, I guess we're going to be neighbors soon," Cuddy told him.

"Yeah?"

"I just accepted a job at Princeton General," she said. And then after a pause, "New York. That seems so unlike you."

"Well it's just Long Island," he said, and then pressed his lips together. "I um—I moved there because I met someone. I live with her now, for the past few months. Stacy. Is her name." House looked back into the hallway, immediately regretting the confession and desperately looking for a way out of this awkward situation.

Cuddy's heart jumped into her throat. "Oh," she said. She realized that came out more shocked than she would've liked. It wasn't like she had expected that he had been waiting for her all this time or anything. She smiled at the absurdity of her reaction. "That's great," she said. House nodded slowly, praying that Wilson would come in and rescue him. "What's she like?"

House laughed. "What's she like? She's you as a lawyer." Cuddy laughed. "I guess I have a type," he said.

Cuddy had been staring at the floor, a small smile still plastered to her face. "Well good, it's good that you're happy."

House nodded. "Are you…seeing anyone?"

"Me? Oh. No, well sometimes…not really." She laughed nervously, and House was sorry he even ventured down this path.

"They're probably gonna start the service soon," He stood up.

"Yeah, I'll be right behind you."

House walked out of the room and up to Wilson who had been watching them from the hallway. "I got her primed for you; now she's just waiting for you to make your move." He slapped his friend on the back and left.

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" House fell sideways into his dining room table knocking over a vase. He grabbed his leg, and cursed again under his breath. Stacy looked in from the kitchen.

"Jesus, Greg. Will you please let me take you back to the emergency room?" She came over and held his arm but he shook her off.

"Those morons will just tell me I've got muscle cramps again and send me home with a heating pad and some pain killers."

"Well you can't keep going like this; you can barely walk. We can try another doctor or a different hospital."

House limped into the living room and collapsed on the couch. "I'll be fine," he told her. Stacy shook her head and walked away from him. In nearly five years she rarely ever walked away from an argument with him. It was one of the things he said he loved about her. But he had been unapproachable since he got a sharp pain in his leg the day, and didn't know what it was. He went into the hospital and asked for an MRI but was discharged after he stabbed himself in the leg with a syringe full of Demerol. Stacy was worried, but she knew that would be lost on him, so she shut up.

Later that night, House woke up screaming in pain and covered in sweat. He grabbed his leg and rolled off the bed hitting the floor hard. Stacy shot up in bed and grabbed the phone.

"You're going to the hospital," she said, rushing around the bed and dropping down to his side. House grabbed her arm.

"No. Take me to Princeton General," he said, groping for the bottle of oxycodone on his nightstand.

"In Jersey? Why?"

House threw four of the pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry couching and heaving as they went down. "Tell them that my doctor's name is Cuddy."

* * *

Stacy fumbled with the car heater, as House shivered next to her and clutched his leg. They had been on the road for nearly thirty minutes and still had another thirty to go.

"I don't understand why we need to drive all the way out to New Jersey. We should have gone somewhere closer to home," she said nervously tapping the steering wheel.

"You wanted a second opinion; we're going to get one," House told her wincing at another shooting pain through his thigh. He opened the pill bottle and dumped two more into his hand.

"You've never even mentioned this Dr. Cuddy to me. Who is he?"

House glanced over at her, before tossing the pills to the back of his throat. "He is a she, and she's someone I trust to help figure out what's wrong with me." He laid his head back against the seat.

Stacy kept one hand on the wheel; the other she pressed to her forehead, gently rubbing her temples. House reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She glanced over at him.

"We'll figure this out," she said. House closed his eyes and nodded, but said nothing.

* * *

Stacy went up to the receptionist in the lobby of Princeton General and asked for Dr. Cuddy, but was told she was unavailable. She took House to the emergency room, where he yelled and berated the staff and nurses until a doctor came in.

"Mister…House?" The young man was named Stephens. He was about twenty-five and had a crew-cut.

"Doctor House," House corrected him.

"Right. I was told you're a patient of Dr. Cuddy's, but she's out of town—"

"Call her. Get her here," House barked at the young doctor as her gripped his leg pressed down on his thigh.

"Dr. Cuddy is an endocrinologist. You have a leg problem—"

"Look, I'm sure you're a real smart kid, probably watch ER every week and learn a whole lot. But I'm not going to argue with you. Get her on the phone, or get a black eye." House took a shaky but threatening step toward the doctor, who stepped back.

"Okay," he said holding up his hands. "I'll try to contact her." He shook his head and walked out of the room.

A few minutes later a receptionist called House up to the desk and handed him a phone.

"Hello."

"What is going on, House? Are you okay?" Cuddy sounded both panicked and irritated.

"Where the hell are you?"

"In Plainsboro. They needed someone to come out and take care of some thin—" House cut her off.

"That's very nice. Gold star for you. I need you to come back to Princeton."

"I can't right now. What's wrong?"

"My leg hurts."

"Your leg?" Now she just sounded annoyed.

"It hurts really bad. It's not a muscle cramp, there was no trauma. It just hurts."

"House, you and I are not the only doctors who can diagnose a leg pain. I can have them admit you and run some tests until I get back."

"I want an MRI."

"I can't justify and MRI, based on a cramp in your leg—"

"I told you it wasn't a cramp!" He shouted.

"Okay, fine it's not a cramp. Do you have a fever?"

House glanced up at Stacy who had been staring at him. "Yes," he said. "I think so. I've been sweating."

"Could be an infection. I'll order blood tests and antibiotics. We'll see what that shows."

"How long till you get back?"

"I can probably get away in a couple of days."

He shook his head. "I really need your help." He sounded afraid and it took Cuddy off guard.

"You're going to be okay House. But for now I'm going to have to help you from here."

House handed the phone back to the nurse. "She said admit me and do an MRI," he told her. The nurse frowned at him and talked to Cuddy for a few seconds before hanging up.

"Dr. Cuddy wants us to admit you and then draw some blood," she told him.

* * *

A day later Cuddy got a call from Dr. Stevens. "Your patient, Dr. House is having kidney failure."

"What?" She had just woken up and shot straight up in bed.

"He had blood and waste in his urine," the younger man told her.

Cuddy shook her head. "He just had leg pain," she whispered.

"Dr. House thinks we may be dealing with muscle cell death. What do want us to do Dr. Cuddy?" He asked her. Cuddy stared at the wall in front of her for several seconds. _Leg pain. Elevated CK. Kidney failure. And now muscle death. A clotting aneurism?_ "Dr. Cuddy?" Dr. Stephens asked her again.

"Do an MRI," she said. "I'm on my way back."

* * *

When she arrived back at Princeton a few hours later House was out getting the MRI. On the drive back she had been in a near panic. What if he was right? What if it was muscle death? What if it was an infarction? He would become a cripple. He might lose his leg, because she refused to listen to him and she refused to come back two days ago when he asked her to.

Cuddy stepped down the hall toward his room, and noticed a pretty brunette woman sitting next to his empty bed. Cuddy went inside and closed the door behind her.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Dr. Cuddy." The woman nodded, knowingly, though slightly surprised as if Cuddy were not what she was expecting.

"I'm Stacy." Cuddy nodded. She noted a familiar tortured look on Stacy's face, one that she supposed House was good at bringing out in the women who loved him. "They came and took him for the MRI a few minutes ago."

Cuddy nodded. "They'll page me when it's done and I'll come back with the results. I wanted to talk to you to get a better idea of what happened." Cuddy slid down in the seat next to Stacy.

"Well, a few days ago we went golfing and he got this really sharp pain in his leg. He went to the hospital and asked for an MRI. The doctor said it wasn't necessary and then like an idiot he grabbed a shot of painkillers and shot himself in the leg." Cuddy frowned but didn't say anything. "And then a couple of night ago he woke up screaming in pain and asked to come here. So I brought him." She nodded.

"Okay," Cuddy said. "If the tests show an infarction like we think, the blockage is a few days old which could mean significant muscle cell death. We won't know how serious until we get the MRI back, but—"

"Why do you think he wanted to come here?" Stacy asked her.

"Um, I don't know," she said, thrown by the question. "The man who was his doctor died about four years ago. I was a student of his, I guess he just figured—"

"But if he already suspected the answer, he could have convinced the doctors back home to…" Stacy shook her head. "I guess it doesn't matter."

Cuddy's pager went off and she excused herself. Twenty minutes later House was back in bed and Stacy at his side. Cuddy looked over the results, and feeling deflated, she went to talk to House.

When she stepped back into the room House glanced from her to Stacy and back. He closed his eyes. "What took you so long?" He asked her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"How bad?" He asked her.

Cuddy nodded. "The MRI revealed a problem."

* * *

House refused the surgery as Cuddy suspected that he might. He ordered her to do a bypass instead. Cuddy was splitting her time between reassuring Stacy and trying to distance herself from House. Cuddy realized soon after his first surgery why she had no business treating him at all. She realized it when she had to steal into the bathroom because she could hardly control the tears springing up after she saw him screaming in agony from the post-op pain and the toxins running rampant through his body.

She tried to talk to Stacy about a surgical procedure which would remove the damaged area, but leave the leg more or less intact. Cuddy knew House wouldn't listen to her, because the catch was, the surgery would remove any danger of him dying, but would still cause him to be in chronic pain for the rest of his life. To House it was the same as if they were to lop his whole leg off. Cuddy thought that if Stacy brought the option to him first, she might have a little more influence. But that turned out not to be the case.

A few hours later Stacy drove back to Long Island to pick up some things from their house and take a shower. While she was gone House went into cardiac arrest.

Cuddy couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been that scared. Once he was out of danger she left the room to collect herself; when she came back shortly afterwards, House was awake but breathing heaving and nearly in tears from the pain. She lowered herself into the chair next to his bed.

"I need more morphine," he said between haggard breaths. Cuddy nodded and made an adjustment to his pain monitor. She folded her hands in her lap and pressed her lips together. House's breathing slowed down a bit as the morphine over took him. He turned his head to look at her. "What's wrong?"

Cuddy closed her eyes and shook her head. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. "You almost died," she said. "I can't do this. I can't be objective right now."

"You have to, Cuddy." House winced as he tried to turn his body toward her. "I need you."

"No. You are make stupid choices, and refusing a treatment that could save your life. You could die and you don't care what this is doing to…Stacy."

House nodded. "She's strong; she can handle it. And so can you." He reached his hand out and took hers. "Do you know why I asked to come here and see you?"

Cuddy shook her head, and reigned in her tears. "No."

"I wanted you because I knew that you would trust me enough to know that I know what's best for me and trust yourself enough to do what has to be done."

Cuddy let go of his hand, and touched the side of his face. She brushed his cheek with her thumb. "What you want and what has to be done might not be the same thing," she said softly. "When the time comes to make those tough calls, I don't know if I can do it."

"You just have to trust me Cuddy." She nodded and blinked back fresh tears. She dropped her hand back into her lap and then stood up, leaving the room without another word.

* * *

"You'll be out in less than a minute," she said softly. House followed her with his eyes as she stepped to the far side of the room, giving them some privacy.

"Thank you," he whispered. Cuddy turned her back to him. She listened as he whispered to Stacy that he loved her, and she loved him back. Cuddy listed as she apologized for a betrayal that she had not yet committed. But would very soon. And Cuddy would be her accomplice. She would help her cripple him. More than that. Stacy just signed the death order; Cuddy would be the one pulling the trigger.

Cuddy waited with Stacy while House was in surgery. Both of them could hardly sit still, though Cuddy tried to be as reassuring as she could, for Stacy's benefit. When it was over, Stacy wanted to be there when House woke up. She wanted to be the one to tell him.

A couple of hours later Cuddy watched as Stacy left again, this time next to tears. She shook her head, squared her shoulders and headed for his room.

His look changed from rage and disgust to a wounded sort of anger the second she appeared at his door. "I thought I could trust you," he said to her.

"I did what I had to do, Cuddy said. "And so did Stacy."

"Don't fucking defend her!" House shouted, and struggled to lift himself up in the bed, though his leg screamed in protest and he fell back against the pillows.

"Don't move around too much, you've got—" Cuddy was trying to calm him, down but careful, not to show guilt or remorse for what she did. House wasn't hearing it.

"You had no right." He told her in a scathing voice.

"You could have died, House. We saved your life."

"No."

"House—" she started to put a hand on his arm but he reached over and grabbed the small lamp by the side of his bed and flung it across the room. It smashed against the far wall and fell to pieces on the floor. A few people outside looked up in alarm and a security guard stepped forward, but Cuddy threw her hand up to keep him back.

She turned back to House. "You need to throw things? Fine. But it won't change what I did. You're just going to have to find a way to deal with it."

"You crippled me!"

"I did what had to be done," she whispered, echoing his words from earlier that day.

House settled back onto the pillow. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Cuddy shook her head. She realized she wasn't going to be able to talk to him now. She turned to leave, and as she did she caught the edge of an angry sob and then a stream of curses and cries. Cuddy's heart dropped in her chest as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

A/N: First thanks so so much for all the wicked cool reviews guys! So as you might have guessed, I am now getting into some more recent history. This chapter deals this the infarction; the next will deal with what happens after, Stacy leaving and how House comes to work for Cuddy. I have been re-watching some of the older episodes and kind of focusing on those that struck me as curious and/or vital to understanding their relationship. Those of you waiting on some more smutty Huddy…it will come, but in pretty limited doses for now…sorry. But if you have any critiques, suggestions, or (of course) compliments...i wanna know all about it...

~Heather


	11. Chapter 11

**Remember December**

Chapter 11

Cuddy stood outside of House's hospital room for several minutes before going inside. It had been a week since the surgery and every instance he looked at her or she spoke to him permeated with treachery. House apologized to Stacy the next day for the things he had said to her. He was still angry though he allowed her to believe that it was only Cuddy whom he was angry with. And Cuddy, feeling guilty anyways, allowed them the lie.

House had been sleeping when Stacy left an hour ago, but was awake and sitting up in bed now. Cuddy stepped up to his bedside and handed him a glass of water. He took it and the pills that followed, greedily tossing them to the back of his throat.

"Where's Stacy?"

"We're sending some equipment home with you and Stacy had to go meet the medical suppliers at your house this morning. She'll be back this afternoon and then you'll be released." Cuddy moved around his bed and pulled up a stool then pulled back the bed sheet. She moved her hand down to the bandage on his thigh, but House grabbed her wrist before she could reach it.

"Don't," he told her.

"I have to check for infection, House." She didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him.

He released her arm and clinched his fist around the covers. "It's not infected," he said but let her remove the bandages anyway. Cuddy plied the tissue around his stitches and moved to the outer edge of the wound. Satisfied that it was healing normally, Cuddy replaced his bandages and pulled the sheet back over him.

"Happy?" He asked her. Cuddy shook her head, but ignored him.

"When you go home, you'll be put on a pain management regimen; we'll reevaluate your pain in a couple of weeks and make adjustments if we need to. You'll also begin physical therapy as soon as you—"

"Not interested," he said.

"House, the muscle tissue left in your leg is still strong. If you keep exercising…it is possible that your daily pain can be kept to a minimum."

House had been staring up at the wall, but now turned to face her. "I don't need a pep-talk," he said.

"You need to not be so damn stubborn," Cuddy cut in. "Stacy is going to have enough to deal with—"

"I don't think I like the idea of you and Stacy running around here like best buddies."

Cuddle smiled slightly and shrugged. "She's a good person," she said softly. "I can see why you like her. I wish I was more like her sometimes. She's very…open. She cares for you a lot."

House frowned. "I used to think she reminded me of you, but you're actually not all that much alike." House winced and rubbed his hand over his leg. "She makes excuses for me when you…don't."

Cuddy stared at his hand pressing down on the mangled thigh. "Maybe that's what you need right now. Someone who isn't constantly pushing you for more than you can give. Especially when all you can give right now is…not good enough."

House closed his eyes and rested his head back against the pillow. "Maybe," he whispered.

Cuddy reached out and put a hand over his. He opened his eyes to look at her and for a split second she thought he was going to yell at her, but instead he tightened his fingers around hers. "If there's away to fix this," Cuddy said nodding to his leg and their hands entwined and resting there. "I will find it." Cuddy stood up and House let go of her hand, closing his eyes again.

* * *

Six weeks later Cuddy walked into her nearly barren office to find Stacy sitting in a chair across from her desk.

"Hi," Cuddy said, taken a little off guard. Ever since House had left the hospital, a doctor closer to their home had been handling all of his follow-up care, and Cuddy had not seen or spoken to either of them since.

Stacy smiled a little, but her eyes were worried and worn, like she hadn't slept in some time. Cuddy moved around to her side of the desk, and sat down. "What's going on?"

Stacy nodded and didn't say anything for a few seconds. "House's…his pain is getting worse. The oxycodone isn't helping. He's taking way too much and still…"

"Have you talked with his doctor's out there, they could—"

"He won't see any doctor's out there, and he gave up on the physical therapy. He thinks things have to just be this way. And…" Stacy shook her head. "He insisted on going back to work a couple of weeks ago, but he couldn't concentrate, he started making bad judgment calls, and got himself thrown off a case." Cuddy shook her head, understanding that may have had nothing to do with the pain, that is was just a part of how he operated. "And then last week, he went back, took on a case, but the pain was so bad that he walked away from the patient," Stacy pressed her lips together. "They fired him."

Cuddy closed her eyes. _That _was not part of the process. She shook her head. "I don't know what you want me to do Stacy, I'm not his doctor anymore; he doesn't want to see me—"

"I'm leaving him," Stacy blurted out, and closed her eyes, nearly ashamed of herself for the confession.

Cuddy drew in a breath to try and calm her heart slamming around in her chest. "Wha-why?"

"I know it seems like I'm being unreasonable, but he's pushing me away. This isn't the type of thing he'll get over, it's like I'm a different person to him now. He won't be able to move on from this and get his life back together if he is constantly reminded of what I did and how things could've been."

"He will get over it; you just have to give it some time. He—" Cuddy stumbled over her next words, "He loves you."

Stacy shook her head. "I love him too. But I've found a way to move on. Besides, he wouldn't want me to stay with him just because of his leg. Or in spite of it."

Cuddy leaned back in her seat. She hated the woman in that moment and wanted her gone. "Why are you telling me this?"

Stacy shrugged. "I think you could help him." She stood up, and pulled on her jacket. "I've already found another place to live. I'm telling him tonight." She walked over to the door, but stopped before turning the handle. "Whatever you decide, thank you. He could be dead right now, if you hadn't…"

Cuddy nodded. "He could've been fine too."

Stacy shook her head and walked out of the office.

The next morning Cuddy called House's home phone and his cell. No answer. She got into her car that afternoon and drove out to Long Island and banged on his door for nearly ten minutes before he heard him shuffling around inside. A couple more minutes and he opened the door. His hair was messed, his eyes red and he scowled at her as he clutched his cane tight at his side.

"Making house calls now?" he asked her before walking away, leaving her standing in the open door. Cuddy followed him inside, and closed the door behind her. From the look of things, House had had a pretty rough night. But it also looked as if someone had tried cleaning up after him. Cuddy followed him into the living room where he had fallen into a chair and was leaning heavily on his leg. "What are you doing here, Cuddy?"

She sat down in a nearby chair, and pulled a syringe from her bag. "Morphine," she said. "It will relieve the pain for now, and then I'm gonna wanna take you off the oxycodone; put you on something a little stronger, so you won't feel the need to take so much."

House nodded slowly, and Cuddy took a tourniquet out of her bag. She came over and kneeled beside him, tied off his arm and gave him the shot. House leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a few seconds, and when he opened them again Cuddy was still at his side.

"She left," he said his voice dry and dissonant. Cuddy nodded. "You knew?"

She nodded again. "Yes." If he was ever going to trust her again, Cuddy decided that honesty was the best policy.

"Did she ask you to come here?"

"She asked me to help you," Cuddy said. "Since apparently you have no interest in helping yourself."

"Thanks, but I don't need your help."

"If you want my drugs, then you're going to have to accept my help too." She crossed her arms in front of her.

"Berating a pathetic cripple?"

"You're not pathetic."

"No, but the cripple part is true." He shot back.

"I don't feel sorry for you, House, so you can stop acting like a victim."

Both of them turned when they heard a key in the door. Wilson pushed the door open and was surprised to see Cuddy standing there.

"Wilson," House waved his hand at Cuddy. "You remember Dr. Frankenstein."

Wilson closed the door and came into the living room. "Dr. Cuddy," he said. "I didn't know you'd be—"

"Apparently you weren't the only one Stacy recruited to take care of me when she decided to bail on me."

* * *

A few hours later Wilson had cooked dinner for the tree of them. He and Cuddy ate together while House stared at the meal for a moment and then stood up and limped to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"It's good that you're here," Wilson said to her once they were alone.

"You too," she said. "It's good that he has someone like you in his life." Wilson nodded.

"I'm afraid he's never gonna be the same after this."

"He's going to be fine. Once we help him find a way to cope with the pain—"

"I'm not talking about the pain, I'm talking about him," Wilson wiped his hands on his napkin and, rubbed his temples. "He was happy for a while. He was in a good relationship, and had a job that looked like it might actually stick. Now, between the infarction and losing his job and losing Stacy…" Wilson shook his head. "I tried to talk her into staying, but she had good reasons for wanting to leave." Wilson looked up at Cuddy. "He's not an easy person to love."

Cuddy's breath caught in her throat. She knew something about that. She wouldn't be here if she didn't, though she couldn't admit it to Wilson.

Cuddy stood up and started to clear the table. Wilson looked at his watch and then back at House's closed bedroom door. "If I stay over here again, my wife is going to think I'm having an affair." Cuddy thought he was kidding, but he wasn't smiling. "Would it be imposing too much for me to ask you to stay here? Just on the couch, until I can get back in the morning? I doubt he'll wake up, but if he does, I don't think it's a good idea for him to be left alone for too long right now."

"Oh. Yeah, of course." As she walked Wilson to the front door she grabbed her prescription pad and scribbled a note, then ripped it off and handed it to him. "I want to try him on a low dose of Vicodin. If it can take enough of the pain away, then maybe he will start exercising again. Do you mind picking this up on your back tomorrow?"

Wilson nodded. "I wouldn't count on it, but I'll pick them up."

* * *

Cuddy had fallen asleep on House's couch a few hours later. A few hours after that she woke up, startled to find House standing over the couch leering at her.

"Jesus, you scared me," she said pulling herself into a sitting position.

"You're in my house," he said.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"It hurts again," he told her. "And you swiped my pills."

"I told you I wanted to change your prescription. Wilson will bring it in the morning." Cuddy glanced at her watch and then stood up, walked over to her bag, and pulled out another shot of morphine.

House swiped it away from her. "I'll do it," he said. "I don't need you to play nurse, as sexy as that sounds…" He tied off his arm and injected the drug. He pulled off the tourniquet, and leaned his head back in the chair, closing his eyes. Cuddy sat back down on the couch across from him, and House opened his eyes.

"You don't have to be here," he said.

"I know," she whispered. "But we were worried about you."

"I'm fine," he said.

"Clearly," she said. House frowned at her.

"You said that you came here to help me, right?" Cuddy nodded. "But you could've called one of the doctors out here and asked them to switch my meds and come to my house and give me morphine. You didn't have to drive all the way from Jersey for that."

"That's true," she said. "There is another reason."

"I thought so," House stood up and took a shaky step toward her, leaning on the edge of the couch for support. His arms came down on each side of her.

"What are you doing?"

"Letting you help," he said before dropping down, pressing an awkward kiss to the corner of her mouth. Cuddy was caught off her guard momentarily but then pushed him away and stood up.

"That's not what I meant House."

"The hell it's not," he said, standing up again and limping over to her. "Now that Stacy's gone, there's nothing stopping you. "

He reached toward her waist, but Cuddy stopped him from pulling her close by planting her hand on his chest. "House, I came here because I wanted to offer you a job."

House dropped his hands to his side. "What?"

"I've been appointed Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro. I start next week and I want to hire you, once you feel like you're ready to come back to work."

House shook his head slowly. "I would rather you just sleep with me." Cuddy crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm not working for you Cuddy."

"You can turn me down, but you just got fired from your forth hospital. What administrator is going to have anything to do with you now?"

"I don't know that it matters anymore," he cast his eyes down and dropped his voice. "I can't stop being in pain long enough to think about treating patients."

Cuddy shook her head. "You can't say that yet, House. You tried to go back to work way too soon, you haven't gotten your pain under control but you will, and I'll help you."

House clinched his fists and grit his teeth together. "Don't talk about my pain like you know what I'm going through."

Cuddy stood her ground when he menacingly invaded her space once again. "I may not know what you leg feels like but I do know that when you're hurting you think you can take the pain away by hurting yourself more." House looked away from her as she put a hand on his arm. "Remember a long time ago when you showed up at my door and asked me to trust you?"

"I remember you told me to go to hell."

"At first. But then I did, and even though we couldn't make it work with us, it got me here, because I give a crap about you. Because I know you're a good person and I think we could help each other."

House shook his head. "I'm not the same person I was back then."

"Of course you are. Things are different but who you are doesn't change."

"You are so fucking blind," he told her, but his voice was softer now, even a little sleepy and apologetic. "I don't think you could handle me."

Cuddy smiled a little. "I think you underestimate me," she said. She took hold of his elbow. "You should get back to bed."

House gripped her arm that she had been using to hold onto him. He grabbed her with his eyes and kept her planted where she stood when he leaned down to kiss her again. "House…" she gave a weak protest,

"Shhh," he breathed against her, feeling his tongue over her lips. He moved his hands up her arms and around to her back. Cuddy's already shoddy defenses, where shaken, and she forgot where she was and what she was doing long enough for House to move her against the wall and slide his hands over her ass. She opened her mouth and breathed into him. Her hands tangled into his hair and as his kisses moved over her ear and down her neck, he pushed his erection against her hip. Cuddy let her own mouth start to roam and House released a helpless groan as she pushed a hot kiss against his throat.

Methodically, House moved one hand away from her ass and over one breast, squeezing slightly then moving under her shirt and to her back seeking out the clasp on her bra. Cuddy leaned her head back against the wall and noted that his eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were moving almost mechanically. She closed her eyes. He wasn't thinking of her, he wasn't making love to her. He was trying to hurt Stacy.

Cuddy shook herself from her reverie and planted her hands on his shoulders pushing him back. "House, don't. Don't do this," she said.

House opened his eyes for the first time since he kissed her. "What?"

"This isn't right. I'm your friend, but that's it. This isn't going to happen."

House blinked at her, and lowered his hand over the deep scarring on his leg. He shook his head and walked away from her, back into his bedroom and slammed the door.

* * *

A week later, on a Saturday afternoon, Cuddy was unpacking boxes of books and placing them on the shelves in her new office. She had the radio on and the door shut, and she was enjoying the view from her new place at the top.

There was a hesitant tapping on her glass door and Cuddy spun around to see House standing outside. She waved him in and turned the music off. "Hey," she greeted him. She noticed that he had combed his hair and pressed his shirt, for the trip to Plainsboro.

"Dr. Lisa Cuddy. Dean of Medicine," House let out a low whistle. "Nice."

Cuddy smiled, and waved him into one of the chairs in front of her desk. "What are you doing here?"

House sat, and then looked around the office, seeming a little nervous. "I owe you an apology for the other night," he said. "I was out of mind, and I, um…I shouldn't have—"

"It's okay, House I understand," Cuddy crossed her arms over her lap.

"You're not upset?" Cuddy shook her head no, she wasn't angry with him. "But you left before I woke up."

Cuddy shrugged. "Wilson was there and I did what I came up there to do, made you my offer, there was no reason for me to stay."

"Right." He swallowed hard and licked his lips. "About that…"

Cuddy laughed now, failing though she tried to hold it back. "Change your mind?"

House rolled his eyes. He would be damned if he was going to come in her and beg or be mocked. "I want to be head of my own department," he said, "with a team of at least six doctor's working under me. I want an office with a conference room, full access to imaging equipment and laboratory tests, and cable in my office. With all the premium channels."

Cuddy's smile widened and she uncrossed her legs. "You can have a team of two, all risky procedures come through me first, and no premium channels."

"A team of three, and just HBO and Showtime."

"Fine," Cuddy said. House smiled and tapped his cane on the ground. "But I have a few demands of my own, and some things I need you to understand." House stopped drumming his cane and looked up at her. He dropped a pill from the bottle he had been fingering and swallowed it.

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "Number one, I want you to keep the Vicodin under control. And start going to physical therapy." House rolled his eyes, but Cuddy cut him off before he could argue. "Number two, You have to understand that by coming to work her it does not mean that you have an all access pass to do whatever you want. Sometimes I am going to have to say no, and when I do, you respect that or you won't have a job."

"Part of what I do means taking chances, Cuddy. It's how I operate—"

"House when you had the infarction, you came to me because you thought I would do whatever you asked me to do. I didn't. And now you're in pain, but your also alive…which do you think is more important to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that if you come to work for me, you're not always going to get your way. My job is to look out for your best interests as well as the best interests of the hospital and of the patient…if those things don't always agree the patient comes first, the hospital comes second and then you and your wants come third. Got it?"

House crossed his arms. "Fine. But if we are trying to take lessons from what happened to my leg, I'd also like to point out that when I came to you, asking for your help because I thought you would trust my judgment and do what I want, the first thing I asked for was an MRI. If you had ordered one when I asked instead of trying twenty other things first, we would've seen the blockage three days earlier and this, waving at his leg, might not have been necessary."

House stared Cuddy down, and after a second she nodded. "I will trust your judgment, if you will trust mine."

House gave her a sidelong glance and smirked. "That's not a logical agreement, what if our judgments are different?"

"In that case we will defer to my judgment, because I'm the boss." House chucked, but nodded in acceptance more than agreement. "When do you want to start?" She asked him.

He took a deep breath. "I'm gonna start looking for a new place to live today. Once I get settled, I'll start." He glanced around the office once again and the settled his eyes on the floor. "I just can't stay there anymore."

* * *

Two days later Cuddy got a call from House telling her that he found a new place.

"Do you want to come see it?" He had asked her.

"Sure, when?"

"Come this morning," he said, "just don't hit on the moving guys, I wouldn't want you to distract them."

But when Cuddy arrived at the stylish brownstone five minutes from the hospital, there were no movers. There was just a truck full of House's belongings, House, his cane, and Wilson. "Hope you brought comfortable shoes," House said, he and Wilson nearly trickling over with laughter.

Cuddy went to her car and pulled her tennis shoes and sweatpants out of her gym bag, and changed in House's bathroom.

Seven hours, twenty-six boxes, five large pieces of furniture, one piano, two pizzas, and six beers later, House had downed another couple of Vicodin and passed out in his newly put together bed, while Cuddy sat on his front stoop staring at the empty moving truck. Wilson stepped out into the cool evening air and handed her another beer before plopping down beside her. "Thanks for your help today," he said. "You are freakishly strong for a girl." He smiled at her and she laughed.

"Thanks, I think." They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Wilson turned to her.

"Can I ask you something?" Cuddy nodded, "Why did you offer him a job?"

Cuddy pressed her lips together. "He's a good doctor—"

"Yes he is. But he's also a liability. Why would you take responsibility for someone who you know to be completely insane? Guilt?"

"No."

"You're not responsible for his leg Lisa."

"I know that."

"But you still blame yourself."

"You don't blame me for what happened to him?"

Wilson looked away from her and shrugged. "If there was any ethical wrongdoing, technically it was Stacy's. But in truth, you're the doctor, you are responsible." Cuddy nodded slowly, a little stung by his words, but knowing he was right. Wilson smiled again and put his hand over hers. "And if it were the other way around and House was treating a patient in the same situation he would've done exactly the same thing you did." Wilson let go of her hand and took another sip of his beer, "I think it's good that you understand what that's like… sometimes having to put the well being of your patient above an ethical code of conduct. Especially if he is going to be working for you."

Cuddy smiled at him, understanding that he was trying to protect his friend and deeply admiring him for it. She took another sip of her own beer and looked back out at the empty truck. "Do you want a job?" She asked him.

Wilson chuckeled. "Yeah right. If I went home and told my wife that we had to move to New Jersey so that I could babysit House, she would divorce me for sure." Cuddy laughed. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," he said.

Cuddy nodded, "Me too." She tipped her beer toward Wilson who touched the top of his to hers. "Cheers," she said.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much for the bitch'n reviews, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this...I am digging writing it so...yeah...I actually have a lot of this story written now, I have just been writing it out of order that is why I haven't updated in a while...but I pretty much know now where I am going and how I'm gonna get there. Give me a review and I'll give you a cookie ;-)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews guys! AS always, I love to know what you think...and also thank you for your patience...this has been a busy week...**

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**Remember December**

Chapter 12

House peeked his head inside Cuddy's office door. "You beeped?"

Cuddy glanced up from the pile of mail she was going through on her desk, and waved him in. She was on the phone and grinning from ear to ear. Once she hung up she pushed the mail aside and lifted her legs up to rest them on the corner of her desk. House felt an involuntary flutter in his abdomen seeing her like that. Confident, sexy. Happy. He let out a breath and leaned back against her couch.

"What ever happened to that desk I gave you before I left Michigan? Remember?"

Cuddy nodded. "This job already came with a desk."

"So, the other one what, went in the wood chipper?"

She chuckled a little that he even thought to ask her about it. "No," she said. "It's at my mother's house."

House grunted, no longer interested, "What were you grinning about?" He asked her.

"Good news," she said. "My grant for the free walk-in clinic was just approved."

House frowned. "Who's gonna work in a free clinic?"

"Every doctor at this hospital is committed to two hours a week," she said. "That includes you."

He didn't even try to hide the absurdity of the notion that he would be wiping runny noses and itchy crotches for two hours a week. He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Gosh you know I'd love to if I wasn't so damn busy. And since when are we giving away health care for free? Aren't you always complaining about how expensive—"

Cuddy cut him off. "How are your interviews going?"

"Yeah. About that—"

"House you've been here for over a month. You haven't hired a team; you haven't taken a case, or even looked at a single file. What is it that I hired you for again?"

"None of the candidates I've looked at have the specific qualifications that I'm looking for, so I'm just going to have to…" House trailed off as Cuddy picked a dark blue file from the pile on her desk and dropped it in front of him. "What's this?"

"You're chance to prove your worth," she said with the most charming smile he think he had ever seen. House flipped open the file and glanced over the admittance form and test results.

"Hmm, that's weird," he mumbled. Cuddy's assistant tapped on the door and Cuddy gestured to her that she was coming, then stood up and slipped on her lab coat. She noted with distain that yet again, House was not wearing his. When she complained about it to Wilson on the phone a couple weeks before, his sage advice was, _pick your battles Cuddy._

House stood up and followed her out the door and down the hall toward the elevator. "Listen to this," he said following her onto the elevator. "Patient went into hypervolemic shock from coughing up blood, but ER tests couldn't find the source of the blood in her lungs or her stomach."

"House," Cuddy pulled his attention away from the file, as the elevator doors opened and she got off, "I have this whole big hospital to run, I have a meeting with the board in five minutes and before that I have to check on a patient…"

"You still have patients?"

"I don't have time to be your Girl Friday. Figure this one out on your own and then hire at team." She spun away from him and into the patient's room before he could get another word in. House frowned and looked around the corridor. He saw a young med student listening to the attending he was shadowing. House limped up to him and interrupted the older man in the middle of a sentence.

"Hey," he said to the med student. "Dr. Cuddy wants you to get a history on this patient for me."

* * *

Two years later....

House leaned down and pressed his weight on his leg. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A part of him had hoped that this pain would dull or become more tolerable over time. He had hoped that it wouldn't rule his life the way it did. In truth the pain wasn't worse over all then it was two years ago. He had days and weeks that were worse than others but if he were to be honest with himself, despite his promise to Cuddy to keep the drugs under control, he had been taking more and more lately. The bad days were very very bad, enough to scare him into downing a dangerous number of pills at a time if it kept the pain away.

He also didn't want Cuddy to know when it got bad. Even after all the time that had passed, she took his pain personally, and he took her guilt for pity. Neither of them wanted to deal with that.

House's patient stirred beside him, and he glanced up at her. "What are you doing here?" She asked him. Her voice was dry and teeming with resentment.

House clenched his jaw slightly. "I'm sorry about your husband, but—"

"Go to hell." Her name was Roslyn Banks. She had come to House a week earlier about her husband who had been having unexplained seizures. He was on anti-convulsants but the seizures wouldn't stop. House didn't want the case. He told her that it was probably an abnormal presentation of epilepsy that his other doctors missed and that she should to take him to a neurologist and get a CT scan of his brain. A few days ago he went into cardiac arrest and died in the emergency room.

But the weird part was that when the ER doctors told her that he had died, Roslyn collapsed and started seizing. Now House was interested. But now she wasn't.

"Fine," he said, pushing himself out of the chair next to her bed. "Keep ignoring me, keep refusing to answer my questions, and you'll end up in cold storage right next to him." Roslyn turned her head away from House and squeezed her eyes closed. "Maybe that's what you want." When House didn't get an answer her shook his head and started out the door.

"You don't get it do you!" Roslyn shouted at him, and he turned back to face her. "He was the only thing that mattered to me. I don't work without him."

House leaned heavy on his cane. "I know you think that now—"

"No! Don't try to tell me that I'll be fine, that I'll move on. You could have saved him but you…" Her voice trailed off and tears flooded over. House shifted uncomfortably in front of her. He could of course test her, diagnose her, and treat her without talking to her; it would just take longer that way. "You're not married are you?" She asked him.

House shook his head. "No," he said. Great, now she was going to try to connect with him.

"No girlfriend?"

"No, no one," he said. "So, I'm not going to empathize with you. I need to order an autopsy on your husband. I'll figure out what killed him, that's obviously the same thing that's killing you. If we can treat it we will; if not, then you'll get your wish."

"Have you ever been in love?"

House rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said. "I had someone and she left me. And no, I don't miss her or feel like a part of me is missing," he glanced briefly down at his leg. "Except the part of me that actually is missing." It might be easier to just let her die, he thought.

"You've been able to move on, you've found someone else?" Roslyn crossed her arms in front of her. "It's never quite so easy," she said.

House let out an annoyed sigh. "It's complicated."

"That's a bunch of bull. It's very simple. If you love someone either you always will, or you never did. No matter how hard you try you can't replace that." Her eyes had welled up again, and she pulled her blanket tight around her.

House looked away from her. "The autopsy?"

"I don't care what you do." She said between choked sobs.

* * *

Cuddy tapped on House's office door before pushing it open. He was sitting at his desk, his arms crossed in defiance. Roslyn had stirred up old feelings that he had been struggling for two years to repress. About Stacy, about her leaving. The sick feeling that she was the one, and now that she was gone and he was damaged… It never bothered House to be alone, but he never truly thought that he would be forever.

He glanced up at Cuddy, who leaned against his desk with a folder in her hand. She had a concerned bend to her mouth. House let his eyes travel over her shoulders and chest and down to her hips which disappeared behind the edge of his desk.

"Good morning Dr. Cuddy," he said in a mock cheerful voice. "Love that shirt, makes you look particularly lickable today."

Cuddy ignored his barbs as she always did. She knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of her, and shooting back would just encourage him. She dropped the file on his desk; it was Anthony Banks' autopsy results.

"Why did they send these to you?" House said, picking up the file.

"The M.E. has orders to notify me of any results where foul play is suspected," she leaned against the side of his desk. "Looks like your patient tried to poison her husband." House narrowed his eyes and skimmed the report. He opened Roslyn's file and compared the two.

"She didn't try to kill him," House closed the file and stood up grabbing his cane, "but she is a big fat liar."

He left his office and headed straight for Roslyn's room. He slid the door closed behind him, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I have good news, and bad news," he said. "The good news is that I know what's wrong with you and I can treat it."

"What's the bad news?" She said rubbing her eyes. She had been sleeping when he walked in.

House took in a defiant breath and narrowed his eyes. "The love of your life hated your guts," he said. "He tried to kill you and he tried to kill himself. Actually he succeeded at that last part."

Roslyn swallowed and teared up again. "He loved me," she said.

"Ah, but you didn't love him, did you?" She looked away from him and didn't answer. "You're pregnant," House said it like he was confusing her of a crime. "You told your husband about it, hoping to pass the kid off as his, but he knew something you didn't." Roslyn looked back over in his direction. "He was sterile." House said.

* * *

House limped into Cuddy's office and dropped into a chair across from her. He tapped his cane loudly against the desk while he waited for her to get off the phone. Roslyn Banks had been released the day before after House fought with Cuddy to let him treat her with a cardioversion to get her heart rhythm back to normal. House was angry at the woman for dredging up his feelings for Stacy, but something she said stuck with him. _Either you always will, or you never did._

House decided it was time for him to get over his own self-pity and move forward. And by move forward, of course he meant look back. "So, you remember twenty years ago when I promised to take you out on a proper date, but we broke up before we ever got to that?" He asked as Cuddy said goodbye to whomever she had been schmoozing on the phone.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes, and dropped the phone down in the receiver. "Have you filed your billing for this month yet?"

"I am way over due. On the date I mean. Let's go out to eat tonight."

"They were due last week." She said, ignoring him.

"I was going to get my team to file them, but—"

"But since you've been here for almost two years and you have yet to hire a team…"

"Right. So I was thinking that Hibachi place—"

"House."

"What?"

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"Fine. Take me out to dinner, and I will do my billing."

"What? No. Next thing you know you'll be trying to trade sexual favors for doing clinic hours."

House raised his eyebrows and smirked at her. "I actually had not thought of that, but—"She glared at him and he shrugged, "Nah, never mind. You're good but you're not _that_ good."

"How about you do your job, and then in a completely unrelated conversation, outside of work, maybe I will consider the possibility of perhaps having dinner with you."

House smiled, and stood up to leave, turning around to Cuddy's assistant as he closed her office door, and leaned down to whisper to her, "She wants me so bad."

* * *

Later that afternoon, House again appeared at Cuddy's door. He handed her a green file. "Did my billing boss."

Cuddy cautiously picked up the file and opened it. "This is billing for one patient," she said, and House shrugged.

"It's the thought that counts."

"No," she corrected. "Actually, it's the—"

House cut her off. "So, is there anywhere in particular that you'd want to go tomorrow, or would you rather be surprised?"

Cuddy closed the file and dropped it into a pile of identical green folders stacked on the floor next to her desk. "What are you talking about?"

"You said if I did my billing you'd have dinner with me."

"No, I said do your billing and maybe we could talk about it."

"Let's talk about it then," he said sitting down and stretching his legs out in front of him.

"I can't go out with you. I have plans already and I just think it would be a really awful idea." Cuddy crossed her arms in front of her, signaling that was the end of the discussion.

"Plans with who?" he asked, his voice raising nearly into squeaky range for a brief second.

"His name is Richard. He's a podiatrist."

House raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "A foot guy?" He smiled. "Is it...like a fetish?'

"He's a nice guy," she said, feigning offense.

"A nice guy?" House laughed. "I think we both know that's not your type."

Cuddy leaned forward in her chair and folded her arms on her desk. "My type has changed a lot since college, House. I'm your boss, you're my employee. I'm not gonna date you, now drop it."

But House was no longer listening to her. He was focused somewhere off to her side staring out the window. "I must destroy this…Richard." He pushed himself out of her chair and left the office, leaving Cuddy alone and grinning in spite of herself.

* * *

Cuddy glanced around the lobby of the theater, looking for Richard who had gone to get them drinks when she excused herself to the ladies room. It felt good to be out, she thought, to get dressed up and to be admired. Even if his company was somewhat lacking, which Cuddy also decided, she only thought because she had gotten used to constant conflict, and so she didn't know what to do with a man who was all pleasantries and flattery. She smiled when she felt a firm hand reach the small of her back.

She turned and found House standing behind her. "The symphony?Really? Are you sure he isn't gay?" Cuddy's mouth dropped slightly at the tux he wore and the winkled boyish smile on his face. "House!" she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a small alcove near the front doors. "What are you doing?"

"Are you really surprised to see me here?" He asked her. "That's cute. And you look gorgeous by the way, you should get dolled up more often, because…" he followed with a low whistle that gave her a momentary flutter in her stomach, but she quickly shook it off.

"Go home! Now." She ordered and started to walk away from him, but he caught her arm.

"You haven't been out on a date in over a year," he said. "Are you doing this now, just because I asked you out?"

"I think it is slightly more plausible that I haven't been out on a date in so long because I'm afraid you'd do to this guy what you did to the last one."

House smiled. "Hey, it's not my fault that guy couldn't hold his liquor." Cuddy opened her mouth to chastise him again but caught site of Richard walking toward them with a glass of red wine in each hand.

"Oh god," she said. She took a conscious step toward Richard and away from House, taking a glass from him and smiling sweetly. "Richard, this is Dr. Greg House. He works for me, and we just ran into each other…" she looked up at House, silently pleading with him to be nice. House took the wine glass out of her hand and took a sip himself, ignoring Richard's outstretched hands. He handed the glass back to Cuddy and smiled up at Richard.

"Yeah, my date's around her somewhere," he said. "First date. Gotta love the symphony; panty-peeler, am I right?" He nudged Richards arm and glanced over at Cuddy who tossed back the rest of her wine. Richard produced an uncomfortable simile, before his cell phone buzzed and he looked down at the caller.

"I'm so sorry Lisa, I need to take this. It's about a patient." He stepped out into the foyer, and House grinned at Cuddy.

"Foot emergency."

Cuddy shook her head. "Can you please just go?"

"And miss the symphony?"

"House," her eyes were pleading with him again, and he realized that he had genuinely upset her. He nodded slowly.

"Okay, Cuddy." He brushed her sleek hair off her bare shoulder, then stepped back and headed toward the door. Cuddy let out a relived sigh when he walked through the lobby doors and left the building. She looked around for the bar and went to get herself another glass of wine.

House stepped into the cold and met Richard on his way back into the building. "Dr. House, you're leaving?"

House nodded. "I've got an emergency with a patient," he said. "I'm sure you know what that's like." Richard nodded, and House smiled. He imagined Cuddy standing inside alone and disappointed and he almost walked away. But then he imagined her in bed with this guy running his tongue over her nipples, and House clenched his jaw. "You know Cuddy is a great woman."

Richard nodded again. "She certainly is. And very attractive."

"Oh sure, yeah. Well you know she's not really my type."

"No?"

"No, I mean I guess she's pretty enough, but I'm just not into all that bizarre sexual stuff she likes."

"Bizarre?" House nodded. "Like how?"

"Well I mean I don't know firsthand but this oncologist friend of mine told me that when they were dating Cuddy actually asked him to pee on her, while they were…well you know." Richard's face twisted into sickly contempt, and House cheered inside. "I mean everyone is entitled to their own fantasies I suppose. And you know how those Scientologists are…"

* * *

Cuddy closed the door to her house half an hour later. Richard had come back inside and made his apologies but told her that he had an issue with a patient he had to take care of. The man could not get away from her fast enough and Cuddy wanted to throttle House.

As it turned out, she wouldn't have to wait long before she got her chance. She listened to the obnoxious banging of his cane against her door as she changed out of her evening gown and into a blue silk nightgown that reached her calves. She pulled a robe around her shoulders and went to answer the door.

When she opened it, House was standing there still wearing the tux, though he had chucked the jacket and tie, and untucked the crisp white shirt. "I just can't believe you."

"What? Did something happen to Richard?" He asked her, innocent as could be. Cuddy grabbed his arm and yanked hard causing him to stumble into the house. He leaned on her to keep from falling down but she quickly pushed him off.

"Yes, you happened to Richard!"

"Oh come on Cuddy, that guy was a tool."

"That's not your call to make House!" She was still yelling, and House was amused at how calm and collected she managed to stay no matter how obstinate he was at work, but she couldn't manage to keep it together now.

"Cuddy, I just want to talk."

"About?"

"Us."

"House, no."

"Why not? And don't say because we work together, because I know that's not the reason."

Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest as House moved past her and walked into her living room making himself comfortable on her couch. "That most certainly is one reason."

"What's another one?"

Now she dropped her arms and looked around the room annoyed that she had nowhere to sit unless it was right next to him. She decided then that she would go and buy a chair tomorrow. He raised his eyebrows at her when she didn't answer right away.

"I think you want to start dating me because you're trying to get over Stacy and because we have history and it's convenient. Not because you have any real feelings for me."

Her honest answer shook him momentarily. "That's not true," he said. "It's not completely true," he finally conceded.

"Which part?" She asked leaning against the armrest.

"I am trying to move on, and have a life," he admitted. "But I do care about you, I think you know that. And we almost had something really great once." He looked past her suddenly a little uncomfortable, and wondering how wise it was of him to come here tonight, "and I wondered if we could get some of that back."

Cuddy knew him well enough to know that what he wasn't saying was more telling than anything that could ever come out of his mouth. "And Stacy?"

House shook his head. "This has nothing to do with Stacy. She left two years ago; I think I've had adequate time to put it behind me."

Cuddy knew better. She knew that it hurt him still to think of her; she knew it hurt him to even be having this conversation about her. And she also knew that when House left Michigan, it took her a hell of a lot longer than two years to get over him. "And if she ever came back?"

"I wouldn't care," he said, though neither of them bought the lie. "It doesn't matter because the only way she'd ever come near me again was if she was dying and need me to cure her."

House still wasn't looking at her but Cuddy watched his chest rise and fall, and knew it was hard for him to even be here, making himself vulnerable like this. She laid a hand on his shoulder and he finally did look up at her. "I think it would be a mistake," she said, though her voice told him that she was ready to give up this fight.

"It might be," he said. But by that time his hand and already found its way to her thigh and up the curved shape of her ass leaning against the couch. He pulled her down next to him where she was more accessible, and pulled the sting on her robe free and pushed it aside.

"We don't bring this to work," she said. House nodded in agreement. His mouth was already pressing wet kisses on her neck and she shivered in his arms.

He looked up and grinned. "Cold?"

"Yes," she lied. She leaned forward and caught his lips, as one arm went around her, and the other felt for the bottom of her nightgown and pushed it up over her matching silk panties. Cuddy groped for his shirt and pulled it over his shoulders. She kissed his chest and neck, and pulled his earlobe between her teeth. House hissed an almost painful moan as his arousal and need for her clouded his mind. They both knew this was nuts. There was no reason for them to think it could work. But House realized that he had not felt this good, this alive since the infarction, before that even. He ran his thumb over the delicate fabric and Cuddy cried out as the pressure hit her square and resonate. She glanced up and realized that the window facing the street was wide open.

"Let's go to bed," she said. House nodded and stood up, but his leg screamed in protest and he winced at the pain. Cuddy glanced down at his leg and took a hold of his arm.

"Don't," he said. He didn't shake her off, but he moved her hand off his arm. "Don't worry about it, don't even look at it okay." He swallowed hard. He didn't like admitting to her that he was self conscious about the gaping scar on his leg, or about how it was harder for him now to move like he could before. If she was more careful with him now, he's know why and he didn't want that.

She nodded. "It doesn't matter House." She moved her hand down and he tensed when she rested it on his thigh, and traced the shape of the scar through his slacks. "It doesn't matter." She caught his eyes and he nodded. It was clear to him that his leg didn't matter to her. Neither did his attitude or his inclination to be a jerk, or his drug habit, or the fact that he still had not taken her out to a nice dinner. She didn't say it, but it was right there in her eyes. She loved him, and she would continue to love him, no matter what he did.

As House took her full force in his arms and they stumbled back into her bedroom, it occurred to him, that this right here, her unconditional and unwavering devotion to him, would be both the reason he would never be able to let her go, and the reason he would ultimately push her away.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews...you can't imagine how happy they make me :D This chapter is a little shorter (I decided to split it into two parts, so this one could end on a somewhat happy note...) and is mostly smutty fun...dedicated to my lovely Christinalicious on her birthday**...

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**Remember December**

Chapter 13

Cuddy opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room, and a strong arm draped around her waist.

_Oh shit, no! _She froze, inching the sheet a little higher and trying desperately not to wake him up.

This actually was not as bad as waking up next to him in her bed yesterday morning.

* * *

He had been tense. It was the first time since Stacy left that he had woken up next to anyone. Cuddy frankly was surprised that he didn't get up in the middle of the night and bolt, but the whole point behind this was to move on and seek out something approaching a normal life. He decided before he even had her panties off that he was staying the night.

But that morning had brought extreme awkwardness. They had no idea what to do with one another now, if they weren't fighting about work, if he wasn't insulting and/or ogling her ass, if they strayed too far from the comfortable routine that allowed them to be around each other every day without dredging up memories or indulging fantasies. Well it was too late for that now.

Cuddy remembered that this used to be much easier. She stood barefoot in her kitchen and poured herself some coffee and another cup for House, who was in her bathroom mumbling to himself.

Cuddy decided that as fantastic as the previous night was, it felt like a fling. Like a one night stand. It had helped them both actually. She finally got some closure with him, and he learned that it's okay to open himself up. Now they could both move on.

She had awkwardly attempted to explain this to him while they leaned against her kitchen counter sipping coffee, but House just laughed. He was familiar with Cuddy's fight or flight responses and he had done this particular dance with her for months in college. He just put his cup in the sink, kissed her quickly on the cheek and left. Last night was a good experience and he was dammed if he was going to let her ruin it. He was actually a little annoyed that she even tried.

House avoided her for the rest of that day, and avoided Wilson's phone calls as well. The man would know just by the tone of his voice what had transpired the night before, and House decided it was best to keep this one close to the vest. House was in a particularly jubilant mood though, and when he got to work that morning he picked through the stack of consult requests on his desk until he found one that was marginally interesting.

Then at about nine o'clock at night House heard a car pull up outside of his building. He peeked through the window and saw her silhouette nervously drumming the steering wheel of her car. House chuckled to himself and walked over to the bar where he had poured himself a scotch and dropped some ice cubes in a glass and poured one for her.

The slight tap came a few minutes later. House opened the door, a grin plastered to his face. "You're pathetic," he said. "I thought for sure you'd make it at least 48 hours before you came begging me for more sex." He handed her the drink he'd poured for her, cutting off whatever it was she was about to shoot back. "Come on then, let's get you drunk."

He took Cuddy's hand and led her into his apartment. Once the door was closed Cuddy turned around and House caught her lips and pulled her into a kiss that had been building in him all day long.

Cuddy couldn't help but smile against his lips. When he finally let her go, she turned away from him, a little embarrassed. She set the glass down on the bar untouched and turned back to face him.

"I just came to talk, House."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Talk. I hear ya…" But he was at her side again and again she was giggling like fifteen year old girl.

"Be serious for a second." She said. He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes but sat down on a bar stool and waited for her to talk. But when she opened her mouth nothing came out.

House laughed. "You don't want things to change between us, and you're worried that we are making a mistake, because you don't think I'm ready for a real relationship," he offered.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Cuddy," he looked around his apartment searching for something or someone to help him out. Honestly he didn't know what to say to reassure her. He didn't want to lie to her or make promises he wasn't sure he could keep. Really more than anything he just wanted to take her shirt off.

When House didn't finish his sentence, Cuddy leaned against the bar next to him. "You aren't sure what you want, but you think we are having fun right now and we shouldn't stop because neither of us really knows what will happen."

House nodded slowly. Except for the part about taking her shirt off, that pretty much summed it up. "Yes," he said.

"And what if that isn't enough for me?" She asked.

House stared at her for a second and then shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be?" She stared at him blankly as if he was asking her a trick question.

"I…I don't know—"

"Do you want to get married? Have kids?"

"What? No."

House shrugged again. He admitted to himself that was a risky little question…if she had said yes he probably would've proposed in that moment just so she wouldn't leave. "Then why not date me and just see what happens?"

Cuddy picked up her scotch and drank it very deliberately until the glass was empty. She would find it much harder to argue with his convoluted logic if she got sloshed first. His hand had already started creeping its way over to her shoulder and played small circles at the nape of her neck. Cuddy leaned into his hand and he swung around in the bar stool until he was facing her. Their knees touched and House rested a hand on her thigh. His fingers danced over the spot where her skirt met flesh and he leaned into her moving a hand over her cheek and taking in the scent of alcohol and anxiety. He lifted his chin and brushed over her lips.

"So, are we done talking?" He whispered against her lips.

Cuddy found herself dizzy and her hands trembling. It wasn't the alcohol; it was him. It always was. She scraped her nail over the harsh gruff of facial hair and leaned into him, trapping his lower lip between hers and tasting it.

That was all the encouragement House needed. He slid off the barstool and moved her backward into his bedroom. He fumbled with the buttons on her shirt and grew frustrated at their uncooperativeness. He considered ripping her shirt off, but she wasn't that drunk and he knew she'd get pissed. Instead he pulled it over her shoulders and tossed it aside. Cuddy pushed her skirt down and stepped out of it while House removed his own shirt. He stared at her mesmerized. Cuddy smiled that way she did that made his heart stop and when she reached for the zipper on his jeans, he really thought he might die.

He balanced himself with a hand on each of her bare hips as he kicked off his jeans. They stood just inches from one another naked, ragged breaths falling on hot skin and Cuddy moved her hands over his arms and around his neck, pulling his lips back down to hers. He moved them back until her calves touched the edge of his bed. He had granted his own hands freedom to find their way around a body that was once so familiar. Their hurried encounter the night before, left them both amazed at how well they moved together and how able they were to bring each other to the brink and back. But it left little time for exploration.

It is a strange thing, touching an old lover so many years later. The body never really forgets, but it's had time to change, to soften in some places and grow firm or calloused in others. And two decades of learning to be patient and understanding a lover's cues. This feels good, that tickles, too slow, too fast. That's just right. He settled her back on the bed and let his legs fall between hers. His lips followed a trail left by his fingers flitting over her breasts and stomach and settling on her hips. Cuddy let out a muffled plea when he pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh and slid his thumb over her clit. She smelled like the body lotion he had seen in her bathroom that morning, and tasted like unrestrained arousal. He played his tongue over her and she pushed her hands into his hair and released his name from her lips in a breathless whisper. She squirmed under his hands and let her own hands travel the length of her body stopping to graze nipples erect and taunting, pleading to be touched.

"House…" She tugged at his back and arms, urging him to come back to her. She didn't want to come before he did. This made House smile, and he flicked his tongue over her once more before pushing himself up and crawling back to the top of the bed.

He fell on his side and hooked her leg around his thigh, rolling over and pulling her on top of him. As she rode him, he found a rhythm to match her own and clutched her hips to keep her from moving too quickly. He opened his eyes and watched her mouth expel a breath and hum each time she fell against him, sending a wave of electricity through her body. Again this feeling of being alive overwhelmed him. As easy as it would be to run away, to slip into a lonely existence of self destructive behavior, he rather liked this feeling. It didn't have the distinct ring of the miserable bastard he projected most of the time, but she was something of a kindred spirit in the way that she understood misery and she loved him either way. Maybe a little more this way.

House dug his fingers into her sides and cried out as her mouth collided with his and she pushed herself down into him one final time. She fell to his side and they both tried to catch their breath between bits of laughter.

They stared at the ceiling, and her hand fell on his chest. "I'm starving," she said. House smiled and glanced sideways to find her propped on her elbow, her wild brown hair falling into her eyes. He brushed it aside.

"What do you think this is," he said, "you sleep with me and now all of a sudden I owe you dinner…" But he was already pulling himself out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants that had been tossed over the back of a chair. Cuddy pulled the sheet around her and watched House pad into the kitchen. "I think I've got some leftover enchiladas in here," he called back to her.

"_You_ made enchiladas?" She called back.

"I could have," he said, pulling a covered dish from the refrigerator and sticking it the microwave. Cuddy laughed, it was much more likely that Wilson made them when was down over the weekend and left some behind, because he knew House never cooked.

A few minutes later House appeared back in at the door with a plate and two forks, and saw Cuddy had pulled on his pale pink dress shirt and crawled back under the sheet. He laughed. The last time she stole a shirt from him after their first night together in Michigan he never saw it again. Absently he wondered if she still had it.

He settle back into bed, his back against the headboard and his leg, which had started to throb since he had been limping all over his apartment and tumbling around with Cuddy for the last few hours. He had taken a pill while in the kitchen and was just waiting for it to kick in. Thankfully Cuddy didn't react when he cursed and grunted while crawling back into the bed.

"We are being really stupid about this," she said, once he was settled and cutting into their dinner.

"Oh would you stop. Here," he cut a piece of enchilada off with the side of his fork and held it up to her lips. Cuddy took a bite and her eyes rolled back into her head a little.

"Mmm god."

House laughed. Her sex face and her good food face were almost identical. "I have to say," he said, "it's a little cliché but that is a great look on you." He hooked his finger around the melted cheese still hanging from her lip and pulled it apart and sucked it into his mouth.

* * *

And that brought them to now. House chuckled against Cuddy's back, and she closed her eyes. "I don't know what you find so damn funny."

"You," he said, "panicking." She rolled over in his arms, the collar of his shirt flipped up a covered part of her lips. "Stop worrying, Cuddy. It's going to be fine."

"You have to stop making sexual remarks about me at work," she said.

"But I always make sexual remarks about you at work. If I stop now, people will get suspicious." He folded her collar down and wiggled his eyebrows. Cuddy smiled and rolled herself out of bed, leaning down to kiss him, before disappearing into his bathroom. Watching her walk away, a familiar fear caught hold of House and his chest tightened up. He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge it, and pulled himself out of bed.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I am going to go ahead and post another short chapter just because I hate waiting so long between updates...things have just been so F-ing busy for me lately. But this is the last gift you get, because from here on out it is going to get DEpressing...but in a good way ;-) heh...

Thanks so much to those of you who have stuck with this story and have taken tie to review...i lurve you, i do...

* * *

**Remember December**

Chapter 14

"Dr. House," a nurse at the front desk called out to House, but he ignored her on his way to the elevator. "Dr. House, Dr. Cuddy left this for you. "

House stopped in his tracks and looked back at the nurse who was holding up a blue folder. "Are there naked pictures of her in there?" He asked the nurse.

She frowned. "I wouldn't know. She told me not to open it." House's eyes widened and he snatched the file from her hands. When he flipped It open though, there were no naked pictures, no sultry note telling him to meet her in her office in five minutes. Nothing but a regular sick patient's file. Oh, and a post-it note with a reminder about the department head meeting at 3:00pm.

House rolled his eyes, pulled the note from the folder and crumpled it up. "What a jip," he muttered and as he was about to toss the note in the garbage he looked through the lobby into her office to find her talking with a group of stiff looking doctors. She caught his gaze and the corners of her mouth perked up in a smile. She 'accidentally' dropped her pen on the ground and when she leaned over in House's direction to retrieve it, he got a money shot of her breasts looking as though they might tumble out of that blouse if she wasn't careful. On her way back up she shot him a wink and he felt his penis stir. House took a deep breath, smoothed out the post-it and stuck it back in the file.

* * *

A few hours later the two were seated next to each other around a large conference table with twelve other department heads. House leaned over to Cuddy. "James McCarthy?" He whispered, inquiring about his new patient.

"I assume you know the name."

"He wrote a book, right?" He actually had recently been awarded the Nobel Prize for his novel which began with a new world leader instituting a peace process which included burning Jerusalem to the ground. The book had been banned in most countries and taken off the selves in school libraries and bookstores across the U.S. He had also recently been shot by a Jewish extremist, but survived.

"He's been having blackouts and memory loss. Nose bleeds—"

"I did read the file," House said.

"No one knows he's coming here, and no one can know. His family is having him transferred later today; they asked for you personally," she said.

"Really? I guess that makes sense; he'd want a doctor as ballsy as he is."

"No," she said simply, smiling as two more doctors entered and took their seats.

"No?"

"Do you need me to give you a lecture on how this is a very important patient, who if he dies because of some crazy theory you have that turns out to be wrong—"

"You can lecture me anytime you want my dear," he said much lower into her ear, "but why would they ask for me if—"

"Because you have a reputation for finding answers when no one else can. But, this time you're going to have to find your answer by the book. And since you still don't have a team to help keep you in line, I want copied on everything you do in this case, understand? And theories, any tests, any treatments, you talk to me first."

"You're going to work this case with me?" He asked her, slight hopefulness creeping into his voice. House tried to drag her into every one of his cases, but more often than not, she simply told him to go away and hire a team. Every now and then she'd humor him and toss out an idea or two, and he'd reel her in. These differentials were, strangely the most fun either of them ever had at work. It kept her sharp (she reveled in the puzzles almost as much as House did though she'd never admit it), and it kept him interested.

"No," she said. "I can't help you with this one, but I need you to keep me in the loop."

"Why can't you work it with me?" He asked.

Cuddy glanced around the room, and then lowered her voice. "Mr. McCarthy's family doesn't want any Jewish doctors involved in his treatment."

House's smile widened. "Really?" Cuddy nodded, a flash of something akin to anger in her eyes. House stifled a laugh. "This is going to be fun."

"House," her voice was stern again, but he cut her off.

"Looks like everyone is here. Let's get started so I can get back to my crackpot patient," he said loud enough for the other's to hear him.

Once the meeting had started though, House's attention started to drift. The talk was all budget criteria, who should get what and who should get cut. House was always top of the cut list, and he had no interest in listening to this bi-monthly bureaucratic mind fuck. So he found other ways to entertain himself. Cuddy shot him a warning glare when she felt his hand creep up her thigh to the place where her skirt had ridden up over her crossed legs.

She shifted nervously in her seat as his had crept to the soft skin on her inner thigh. She tried to turn herself away from him, but ended up only providing him easier access. He traced her leg until he was nearly pushing her skirt right up off of her legs and then stopped short. With his forefinger House started to trace the letters, I-W-A-N-T-Y-O-U. Cuddy's legs were trembling by the time he got to the Y.

She bit her lip, then touched her pen to the legal pad in front of her and scribbled, _Your place after?_ House read what she had written and smiled, but shook his head and wrote, _Your office._

_No_, she mouthed to him. House smirked, and his finger once again was drawn to the naked skin of her thigh.

Y-E-S.

* * *

Twenty minutes later they had locked her office door, drawn the blinds, and were breathing heavy against her bookshelves and falling onto the couch. House had tossed his cane to the floor and was eagerly pushing her skirt up her legs to reveal a grey laced thong. He pressed a kiss to her stomach just below her belly button before reaching underneath her skirt and pulling her panties off. Cuddy sucked in a deep breath and turned around pressing her back to him. House unzipped his pants with one hand while the other ran over her thigh and ass, pushing her skirt out of the way, and then finding its way to her clit. He pressed his thumb down there, causing her to buck against him. House laughed and then moved both hands to her hips pulling her back until he could easily move inside her.

"I love this job," he whispered to her as he snaked an arm around her waist, and picked up his pace.

Cuddy laughed. "You wouldn't get perks like this anywhere else."

_That's for damn sure_, House thought, vaguely wondering how he had gone so long suppressing this constant craving for her. How he had lasted so long by telling himself that the pangs he felt when he remembered their time together all those years ago was really a longing for the glory days of youth, and not a longing for her.

Cuddy dug her hands into the back of the couch just before she came, and stifled a cry into her shoulder. House was not far behind, planting his hands once again on her hips and riding out the last waves of his orgasm. Cuddy rose against him and rested her back on his chest. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and one arm went around his neck. Still not letting go of her waist, House pressed soft kisses to her neck and shoulder, until she turned in his arms gave him a slightly rougher kiss.

"I think you may be the perfect woman," he said smiling against her lips.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Sorry again for the long dely...but you are rewarded for your patience by an extra long chapter...

So, here is the deal...there will be one more lengthy chapter after this one that I hope to have posted sometime tomorrow, after that this story will be complete. Though I'm thinking that since this was a story about their past, it seems only fitting that we should have a sequel telling the story of their future...yes? I dunno, let me know what you guys think.

So this bit is a little sad...but funny, I think...In 'The Itch' when Cuddy was describing to Wilson how she thought a relationship with House would go, it occurred to me the details there...kind of seemed like she had some first hand experinece with that...enjoy!

And to those of you who have stayed with this story, and reviewed...or just kept on reading....you are the coolest of the cool...

* * *

**Remember December**

Chapter 15

When House walked into his office on Tuesday morning he found Cuddy sitting behind his desk in his chair, her legs crossed and an annoyed frown plastered on her face.

She didn't even let him put his bag down before she started in. "When I told you to work this McCarthy case 'by the book,' what did that mean to you?"

"You left early this morning," he said ignoring her question.

"Yes, I left early because I have a job to do. And you have a patient who went into cardiac arrest last night, after you ordered him to be shot up with amphetamines."

"And yet I managed to stay in bed until after nine," House tossed a file on his desk and motioned for Cuddy to get out of his chair. She didn't budge.

"I asked you to act responsibly with this case and to keep me informed on everything—"

"You seem like you've been informed." House tapped his cane on the ground impatiently.

"After you almost killed him." Cuddy stood up and moved aside so that he could have his chair.

"I needed to stress his heart to rule out an arrhythmia, which the EKG did, which means it's not his heart. It's his brain." House leaned back in his chair, and eyed Cuddy closely. Her cheeks were tinted red, out of anger, he was certain, but her eyes were still soft, as they almost always were when she looked at him.

"His brain? Well that's great," Cuddy said with mock enthusiasm. "Let's just cut open his head and dig around until we find the problem."

House gave her an absurd smile. "My thoughts exactly. Is this meant to be or what?"

"Or what," Cuddy quickly shot back. She was still angry. "Are you trying to push me?" He rolled his eyes, but before he could open his mouth to refute her, Cuddy dug in. "You think that because we're sleeping together, you need to push me, to see what I'll let you get away with, or to feel like you need to show me that I can't control you."

House had started to open the file but dropped it on the desk in front of him and leaned forward in his seat looking her dead in the eye. "This has nothing to do with us. I take risks, it's what I do, and you know it. As far as risks go this one was actually pretty tame. You storming around my office and shrieking like a banshee has nothing to do with the case or the patient or me breaking rules. It has to do with you being afraid to get to close to me because you think you'll go soft, that I won't respect you anymore if you don't put me in my place. I'm sorry that you feel like that Cuddy, but the truth is you haven't lost any ground with me. I didn't respect you before we started sleeping together, and I still don't." He stared at her and her back at him, her mouth gaping. With their hostility permeating the space around them, Cuddy crossed her arms and squared her shoulders.

"You don't make another move on this case without talking to me first, or I will toss you." And with that she turned on her heel and left the office. House shook his head and let out a deep breath. The fact that words flew out of his mouth without concern for the consequences was nothing new to Cuddy, but House knew when to push just hard enough to hurt her. As soon as he figured her out, he never hesitated to manipulate her feelings when it served him, but now something was different. He almost felt bad about it.

After glancing over the test results, House decided that it couldn't wait any longer. He was going to have to go and talk to the patient.

* * *

When he walked into the room, the young novelist lay motionless in his hospital bed and a meek looking dark haired woman sat at his side, her eyes closed and her head tipped toward her chest. House cleared his throat and James McCarthy opened his eyes and glanced over at House.

"Shalom," he said, "Hello."

House grunted a laugh at the anti-Semite greeting him in Hebrew. He nodded to the woman who still had not moved. "What's with her?" he asked.

"She's praying," he said. "She's afraid for me."

House nodded. "Right." This really was the worst part of this damn job. He sat down on a stool near the foot of the bed and flipped open the file again. "You told the admitting nurse that you have a history of lightheadedness and fatigue. Then you got better for a while sometime last year—"

"While I was writing my book," James said.

"Right. But then when you were done with the book, you got sicker."

James thought for a second and then nodded. "I guess," he said. "Who are you?"

"Your doctor," House told him. "Don't worry, my parents were Baptists." James drew a thin smile, but said nothing. "I am however doing a Jew, or at least I was as of last night. You think it's contagious? Like maybe I got some on me?"

James looked up and met House's stare. "My parents are the ones who say those horrible things not me. They had me brought here when I was unconscious, I don't even know what is happening to me."

"No one does, that's why you're here."

"They think that just because one lunatic with a gun wanted to hurt me because of some stupid story that they all do."

"The Jewish conspiracy? It's understandable I guess. You know how temperamental and irrational they can be…"

"I do," James said and then smiled at the dark haired woman next to him. "I'm married to one." The woman looked up suddenly as if she had suddenly realized there was someone else in the room. House glanced between them.

"You're married to him?" He asked the girl, who nodded and slowly stuck out her hand for him to shake, which he hesitantly took.

"Shalom," she said. "I'm Ann. You're the doctor who's going to cure him?"

House let go of her hand. "Assuming I can figure out what happened to him." The two exchanged a look. "You…don't have a problem with what he writes?" House asked the girl.

She looked down at her hands in her lap. "It's just fiction," she said.

"Pretty blasphemous fiction." Ann and James shared another look, this one a little more tense. Clearly this was a sensitive subject.

"Words…have power," she said slowly. "But they don't actually hurt anyone."

House frowned. "Tell me about the gun shot. Did his symptoms get worse right after?" James had laid his head back on his pillow and seemed to have fallen asleep.

"Um…no, actually. He was feeling better when he was writing his novel, and then he got sick after he finished. Then he was shot several months later when we were on vacation in Jordon. But when he was in the hospital he got a little better." She stopped and thought for a while. "When he left hospital that's when he got very bad."

House bit down on the inside of his lower lip. "Get me a list of any medications he was on in the past year or so. And the name of his doctors in Jordon." House stood up and turned to leave the room, but Ann called out to him.

"Doctor!" When House turned back he saw she had stood up, her skin was white and eyes wide. She was grasping James hand. "He's squeezing me," she said. House stepped over to James' bedside and saw that he was trembling lightly and had started to sweat. House grabbed his penlight from his front pocket and opened James' eyelid. He stared for a brief second before taking a step back and pushing the nurses' station alert. "Shit," he said, and looked up at Ann. "He's tachycaric. He's going into a coma."

* * *

House leaned against his white board and drew small circles over and over again. "Doodling a new part of the process?" Cuddy was standing behind him. House was sure she had gone home hours ago.

"It's this new thing I'm trying," he said, a small smile crossing his lips in spite of himself.

"I heard James McCarthy slipped into a coma." She leaned against the conference table and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Wasn't my fault," House said. "I was just talking to them."

Cuddy nodded. "I know," she said. "I didn't come down here to yell at you. I came to see if I can help."

House finally turned around. The deprivation was written all over his face. He didn't know what was wrong with James, and it was starting to get to him. Not starting, he was a wreck. "You can't help this kid," he told her. "I can't even help him. I've run every brain scan and blood test, LP when I was thinking infection. I've done everything except crack open his skull and poke around inside."

"I can help you," she said. "If you let me." But House just shook his head and turned back to the board. They sat in silence for several minutes, before House stared to doodle circles on the board again.

"You were right," he said after a while. Cuddy looked up at him but he still had his back to her. "I was trying to push you. I wasn't sure if you would change once we got involved, and I thought I needed to test you." He changed the doodles from circles to hearts. "I'm sorry."

Cuddy slid away from the table and stepped up behind him, placing a hand on his back. "You don't need to do that," she said. "I'm not going to change if you don't."

"And what if I do?" He looked down at her. He had such a way with questions, if she didn't know him better she'd think that what he was asking was actually what he was asking.

"I know you won't. That's what I… " she caught herself. "I like you the way you are."

House nodded. He tipped her chin up and kissed her. They held on for a moment, not all too concerned with getting caught since it was after eleven, but careful nonetheless, not to get too wrapped up in each other. House pulled her close to him, and she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a soft nip.

House groaned into her mouth. "Good god woman."

"Are we okay?" She asked him, smiling against his lips.

House nodded, and tucked her head under his chin, content to just hold her while he stared at his whiteboard full of theories which told him absolutely nothing. "Yeah," he said. "But you should go home. I'll come over when I'm done here."

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep," she said.

House kissed her hair and pulled his vicodin from his pocket and shook the bottle. "So take a pill," he said popping open the lid and tossing one into his mouth. "Want one of mine?"

"No thanks," she said stepping back. When she looked up at him again he wore a look she had seen so many times before. He figured it out.

"What?" She asked him.

House limped over to the table and flipped open the file which held the list of medications James had been taking. And he was quite the little self-medicator.

_Ginkgo biloba__. Better._

_Stimulants. Worse._

_Vasodilators__. Better._

_oh._

House smiled slightly. Damn, guilt made him an idiot.

"What? House what's wrong with him?" Cuddy's insistent voice brought him back to earth. House glanced up at her. If he told her the truth, she'd never let him do what he needed to do. And this was an emergency; the coma a pretty good indicator that the guy didn't have much time left.

"Arteriovenous malformation," he told her. "The medications he was on were masking it. I'll do an MRI to confirm." The lie tasted bitter in his mouth, how easily it came to him. How he was not in the least concerned with the consequences. Not of what he had to do, nor of what her reaction would be once she found out. He swallowed hard. "Go home, he told her. I know you have to be back early." She stared at him, and drew her eyebrows together.

"You sure everything is alright?"

House nodded and bent down to kiss her again. "Couldn't have figured it out without you," he said.

* * *

She wasn't gone ten minutes before House was on the phone. "I need an OR," he said. "And set it up for a craniectomy."

"Excuse me?" Said the surgeon on the other end.

"I just finished talking to Cuddy. She agrees, he's too far gone. If we don't do this he dies." Reluctantly the surgeon agreed. House had not screwed over enough people in the hospital yet, for them to really doubt him when he said, _I talked to Cuddy_.

An hour later House stood in the tower and watched over James' surgery. Ann was behind him silently praying, her lips moving rapidly. House tossed her an annoyed glare.

"That won't save him," he told her. "That will." He pointed to the procedure happening beneath them. Ann looked up.

"I don't understand this," she said.

"They're doing what's commonly called a bur-hole lobotomy." Ann looked up at him terrified. "Your husband has a condition that restricted blood flow through his brain. When he was taking all those drugs and herbal supplements while he was writing his book, he was essentially opening up those blood vessels and treating the condition. After he was shot, he had mild increased pressure in his brain and when they medicated him for that, they treated this as well. When he went off all of the medications, he got worse. To a point where most of his vessels have become restricted, and we can no longer treat it chemically." Ann pushed her hands against her mouth and House folded his across his chest. He could see that he was upsetting her more than he was consoling her. "There's a theory that by drilling small holes in the skull, we can increase blood volume and oxygenate the brain."

"Will he be okay?" She asked, her hands shaking slightly, and House realized that was all she wanted in the first place.

He nodded. "If I'm right and it works, he should come out of the coma in a few hours."

"And if not?"

House, uncrossed his arms and walked toward the door. "Then he'll die," he told her before turning away and leaving her alone.

* * *

When House left the hospital it was nearly 3 AM. He debated whether or not to go over to Cuddy's, to confess what he did and face the music, or let her wake up alone in the morning and let some nurse or surgeon tell her about McCarthy. Or his widow, if House turned out to be wrong on this one.

He climbed into his beat up Ford and drove over to her house, letting himself in with the key she had given him when they started up with each other several weeks before. He was surprised to find the small living room light seeping into the entry way, and was even more surprised to peak around the corner and find Cuddy wrapped in a blanket and curled up on the couch asleep.

House dropped down beside her on the couch and tipped his cane on the table next to them. He brushed her shoulder and she stirred, rolling over to face him.

"What are you doing out here?" he whispered.

Cuddy blinked and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Waiting for you." House noted that the rims of her eyes seemed a little swollen, like she had been crying.

"Why?"

Cuddy licked her dry lips and reached for his hand. He frowned but let her take it. "I know about McCarthy." She didn't waste any time with pleasantries.

House nodded slowly. "How?"

"His surgeon called me right after you called him."

"But he still did the surgery," he said cautiously, unsure if she knew that much.

"Yes," Cuddy said. "I told him to do whatever you needed."

House drew in a breath. Part of him was touched that she believed in him, but part of him also knew this wasn't over. "That was very…supportive of you."

"House, do you remember when you gave me this?" She turned her hand over in his and revealed in her palm the small Claddagh ring he had given her twenty years ago. He hadn't seen it since the night he told her he was leaving Michigan, the night she first took it off.

He nodded again. "I had no idea you kept it."

"I've had it put away for years, I haven't worn it in twenty-years, but for some reason tonight I thought about it." She glanced up at him. "When we were…together I fought it with every breath I had, but the truth is, I had never met anyone like you back then and I still haven't. You are everything I want in another person, good and bad." She looked away from him, her naked honesty was shameful. "Except one thing."

"Cuddy, if I hadn't lied to you—"

"If you hadn't lied to me then I might have asked you to find a way to confirm the slow blood flow, or try to increase oxygen through a shunt, before you cut a permanent hole in his head which may or may not save him, but quite possibly will kill him. Yes that's true. And you wouldn't like it, and I'm sure you'd see that as more risky than your crazy risk. But you also wouldn't have made me feel the way you did tonight, to know that you don't trust me, you don't listen to me, and you'd rather lie to me than let me in and let me help you."

House looked down at the place where she still held his hand in hers. "You don't believe that."

"Don't tell me what I believe."

"Then cut the crap, Cuddy. You understand why I operate this way better than anyone else. You're looking for an excuse to push me away because we're getting too close, just like you did back then."

Cuddy laughed out of disbelief. "You're the one who left."

"Yeah, you're right it was all my fault." He tried to pull his hand away from her but she held on to him and didn't let go.

"Back then I never imagined that you would still be in my life all this time later. The fact that you are, it kind of…" Cuddy shook her head and looked up at him, searching his eyes for some sign that he understood what she was trying to say.

"I know," he said, his voice a low surrender. "We've been through a lot with each other."

Cuddy shook her head. "That's not enough, though is it?"

"It is for me. I have something with you that I've never had with anyone. You've been tested. I know you can you can stick where most people would run screaming." House moved closer to her and drew his hand over her hair. "And I don't ever want to hurt you on purpose. "

Cuddy closed her eyes when House bent down to kiss her and for split second her mind stopped working, time stopped moving and she became intoxicated by him. As his lips brushed hers an apology hung between them, and Cuddy considered that maybe she was overreacting. He was here wasn't he? With his heart open, telling her he was sorry for the lie. Sorry for hurting her.

Except that wasn't what he was doing.

He was here to tell her that though he still wanted her, she should expect more of the same. Cuddy turned his hand over in hers as her started to pull away and she placed the cherished, though now tarnished ring in palm of his hand.

When he opened his eyes and looked down, he shook his head. "Why?"

"I can't keep this anymore. This is all a lie House. We have to stop before one of us gets hurt."

"No, I'm not taking it back, forget it." He pushed his hand out toward her, but she moved off the couch and away from him.

"That ring stands for every false thing I have ever believed to be true about us. It doesn't mean anything to me anymore, all it does is remind me of everything I lost back then and everything I'm about to lose now."

"Don't do this Cuddy. We have a good thing here." He looked up at her, his face a mixture of anger and helplessness.

"No, Greg. You have a good thing. I feel like crap. I can't be your lover, boss, friend, Irene Adler to your Sherlock Homes, and your arch nemesis all in one. It's too much and I don't trust you anymore."

"You may not trust me right now, but you do want me." He stood and took a painful step toward her.

"It's all the same to me," she said. The two of them stood in a stalemate until Cuddy stepped into her entry way and motioned to the door. "You need to leave."

House stood still, afraid if he moved he would fall apart at her feet. _Why did he need to push every woman who loved him as far away as possible?_ That would be the question, for years to come, but in this moment he knew that wasn't the case. All he had to do was tell her the truth. Tell her he loved her back then, he still loves her now.

But of course he wouldn't. She was pushing him and he was pushing her. The unstoppable force meets the immovable object. They were too stubborn. He grabbed his cane from its perch and met her in front of her door.

"You wanna give up. Just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that." She said.

He shook his head, thinking that she couldn't be serious. "How about some angry break-up sex?"

Cuddy's eyes flashed almost murderous, as she opened the front door and House walked away, not even turning to look her in the eye.

* * *

James McCarthy lived, of course. But House didn't come to gloat. He didn't come around for anything at all actually; not to apologize, not to annoy, not even to insult or belittle her wardrobe. It made the break-up easier for them both, but it made work much harder. When Cuddy had a case for him, she slipped into his office first thing in the morning and put it on his desk before he came into the building. If he needed her to sign-off on a chart of procedure, he sent it down with the janitor.

Things went on this way for almost two months, and it was becoming absurd.

Cuddy nervously tapped her fingers on her desk, as she waited for Wilson to pick up the phone. On the fifth ring he did, though he sounded busy and stressed.

"What's up?' He asked her.

"I'm calling to renew my job offer," she said, the tapping on her desk becoming more and more insistent.

Wilson laughed. "What the hell is going on with you two? Every time I've talked to House for the past few weeks he's been acting like someone killed his puppy or something."

"Nothing is going on. House is just House. And I think I may have gotten in over my head," she said. She was actually surprised Wilson didn't know about the two of them. But if House had told him, Wilson was little an elderly Jewish mother in law who wouldn't be able to keep his nose out of it for anything. "If you're his friend at all you will pack up the little wife and get out here asap…because if you don't then I might just have to fire him."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You're not going to fire him."

"I will give you whatever you ask for," she wasn't even trying to hide her desperation.

* * *

A few days later Cuddy swung open the door of House's office and walked inside with a file folder in her hands. House was momentarily stunned to see her there. She had been avoiding and evading just as much as he had these last two months.

"I already have a case," he said nodding to his white board which was completly blank. Cuddy raise her eyebrows. "I'm pacing myself," he said.

"This isn't a case," she said holding up the manila folder. "I have some news for you."

It was House's turn to raise his eyebrows. "I just got off the phone with Wilson. He's my new Head of Oncology."

House smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Why?"

"To run interference between the two of us, of course." She said and he looked away from her. He hadn't really considered that he was causing her more strife by staying away than he would've just by facing their issues head on. "I just want things to get back to normal," she said, lowering her voice.

"By 'back to normal' you mean—"

"I mean I want us to be able to work together without hard feelings. I want us to get back to being friends."

"Were we ever friends?" He asked her. "I can't remember a time when I didn't want to do you." House was deflecting again. He could only remember two instances in his entire life that he'd ever felt this much pain, and neither of them had anything to do with his leg.

She ignored him and dropped the file on his desk. "It's time for you to hire a team, you can't put it off any longer. And you're going to start with him."

House flipped open the file to see an employment portfolio. "Robert Chase?"

"His father is Dr. Rowan Chase, the famous immunologist."

"Uh huh. And why am I looking at the famous immunologist's kid's file? What's he done?"

"Dr. Chase called and asked me for a favor. What will it hurt, he's a smart guy, and now you'll have someone else to talk to your patients and do your procedures for you."

"I'm not hiring anyone because their daddy made a phone call." He closed the file and stared up at Cuddy. He faintly wondered if there would come a day when he'd be able to look at her without being blown away by how stunning she was.

"You'll hire him," she said, putting her foot down, and then turned to walk away.

"Hey Cuddy," House called behind her and she turned back to him. "Your ass looks…really fat in that skirt."

Cuddy's eyes widened, but then a slow smile crept across her face. He wanted things back to normal just as much as she did. "Thanks," she said.

* * *

_Six months later…._

House and Wilson were sitting in House's office watching Monster Truck Mania 4 and tossing popcorn at one another when Cuddy walked in.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"Crap, mom's home," House said tucking the popcorn bag behind his chair. He straightened up and Wilson concealed a smirk. They were both very good actors. While time had made things easier to ignore, they were still very tense and on their guard around one another. "What do you want?"

"Dr. Chase came to see me today. Why is it that you have him filing paperwork, and won't let him work on the patient?"

House shrugged. "He's got to prove to me that he's not a moron first."

"How can he do that, if you won't let him near the patient?"

"Not running to you because he got his teeny weenie feelings hurt would be a good start," House dipped his hand into the popcorn bag and came out with a handful. He aimed one at Cuddy's cleavage and launched. Wilson watched in amazement as Cuddy caught the popcorn before it could dive into her v-neck and tossed it back at him. The kernel bounced off his head and landed somewhere underneath his desk. Wilson laughed. The two of them were like junior high kids.

House frowned and caught sight of the stack of employment profiles on his desk. For some reason the more he ignored them, the more insistent these idiots were about sending them in. But a photo on the Medical License ID on the top one caught his eye and he smirked. He spun his chair around and picked up the phone, then to Cuddy he said, "I just had some inspiration," he handed her the file, with the photo of the attractive twenty-something on the front page. "My newest fellow," he told her as he dialed.

Cuddy skimmed over the application and frowned, as she opened her mouth to protest, House cut her off. "Yes, can I speak to a Dr. Allison Cameron please….yes, this is Greg House, I was calling to offer you a fellowship on my team….no, no need for an interview Dr. Cameron…" he smiled at Cuddy. "No, all of your qualifications are right in order…you're just what this team needs…..alright then…can you start Monday….great! okay …bye bye…"

House hung up the phone and gave Cuddy another self-satisfied smirk. She rolled her eyes and left.

Wilson burst out laughing as soon as she turned the corner out of their sight. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" he said innocently, "She's been bugging me forever to hire a team."

* * *

_Another six months later…._

House rapped on Cuddy's office door, and then barged into her office.

"What?"

"My two idiot employees just got themselves arrested trying to break into a patient's house. We have to go bail them out."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and looked up the hospital attorney's phone number. She grabbed her coat and her cell phone before following House out of the office. "Is this fun for you?" She asked him. "Turning your employees into felons and making certain that they lose their licenses and go to prison? You better hope the patient drops the charges."

"She will if she wants to live," he said opening her passenger door and sliding into the seat next to her.

"House—"

"Don't worry about it," he said. "It won't happen again."

"Because you won't force them to break into patients house's anymore?" She asked, a little too hopeful as she gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

"No," he said. "Because I just hired another fellow who will be much better at this kind of stuff."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Remember December**

Chapter 16

It became a game. He avoids her, she chastises him. She reaches out a hand every now and then, he smacks it away. He calls in the middle of the night, and every other time she won't hang up on him. He insults her, she smiles that way that never fails to shut him up. She never invites him over, but he always gives the peanut gallery something to talk about.

She had nearly given up on him, on trying to save him from himself. When he pretended not to care when a billionaire swooped in and tried to take her hospital away from her. When she defended him and protected him until a final ultimatum forced her to chose between him and the hospital, she took a step back and realized that when it all came down to it, he would never make the same kind of sacrifices for her, and standing by him, protecting him, it was all personal. It had nothing to do with the hospital or what a good doctor he was. Besides, Wilson was here now. House didn't need her protection anymore.

And yet somehow, someway, in the end, she stood up for him.

And when the young naïve ingénue tried to force his feeling out of him, because she didn't know any better, he agreed to take her out. He needed to let her get it out of her system. Cuddy knew that was never quite so easy. So when she smiled coyly and teased him about his "date" he couldn't help but wonder why she was taking it so well.

Cuddy had been embarrassed the week before when the Marine laid one on her in front of god and everyone at the fundraiser. House had stalked her there and was brooding in the corner with Wilson, but in the end he left them alone. He knew it was harmless. This muscle head wasn't her type. He wasn't even type that she tried to convince herself was her type.

The same was true of Dr. Cameron. She affected House in a way, but he knew, Cameron would never be able to hold his attention, or challenge him, or captivate him the way that Cuddy did. That was the problem with all of them these days. That fact that Cuddy had sworn him off completely only started to bother him when he looked around and saw everyone in his life was finding peace in the people in their lives except for him. And except for her.

* * *

_It was saline. I gave you a placebo…._

House followed her out into the snow and stepped in front of her car door blocking her way. "What are trying to do? Show me that I was an idiot for telling her to go, that I was wrong and now I've blown my chance for happiness, and now I'm making up this pain in my head because I don't know how to deal with losing her? I already got this lecture from Wilson, but thanks."

Cuddy frowned. "No," she said. "I never wanted her to stay. I was stupid for offering her a job and keeping them here in the first place. But yes, I think you're making up the pain in your head, not because of her but because you don't want to be alone." She shivered and then scooted House out of the way. As she reached for the door handle House stepped in her way once more.

"I think I'm in enough pain already without needing to make some up in my head don't you?"

"I think that Stacy coming back brought up a lot of feelings for you, and how you felt the last time she left."

"If you were worried something would happen between us why did you keep her here?"

"Because you're a grown up. Some of the time. And because I don't have any say over who you do and don't have sex with," Cuddy stared at him, not wanting to do this now, but knowing that he wouldn't let it go. "Why," she asked him, "knowing how things ended between you two the first time and that she's married now, why would you get involved with her to begin with?" Her breath hit the air in a cold puff of steam and House shook his head. He turned to walk away but surprised Cuddy by climbing into the passenger side of her car. Cuddy frowned and climbed in beside him. She started the car and turned on the heat, then waited for him to either speak or get out.

"I may have loved you more and for longer, but you never let us get that far. Stacy was the only grown-up relationship I've ever had. I thought that…"

When he didn't finish his sentence, Cuddy nodded. Her unease with him being so vulnerable, so unguarded was obvious. They tried their best to avoid moments like this these days, lest they start to rehash old feelings…

"You wanted that back?" She offered.

He nodded. "I thought I did. Wilson's upset because he thinks I never got over her, but that I'm trying to be miserable, that I like being alone. The truth is she isn't the same person to me anymore." House glanced over at Cuddy. "And I did move on didn't I?" He rarely opened himself up but when he did, it was raw and sometimes painful for the person he decided to unload upon. Cuddy had not felt this in some time. His accusations toward Stacy, Cuddy took personally. She was an accomplice in the scheme to cripple him, so any resentment he still felt toward Stacy, obviously he still harbored against Cuddy as well. But he surprised her again when he reached for her hand stroked it with his thumb.

"For some reason it always keeps coming back to you." He leaned his head back on her headrest and closed his eyes. Cuddy stared at him at length. She had built up a pretty strong resolve over the years, partly lying to herself about what she wanted, and partly denying what they had ever existed. She moved her hand away from his.

"We never had a relationship, House."

"No," he said, his eyes still closed, "but it was a little bit more than casual fucking wasn't it?"

Cuddy didn't answer, she just stared into the snow flitting over the landscape in front of her, and willing him to get out of the car.

"Did it hurt you?" He asked her after a canyon of silence.

"You're not above lying to me House, why would it hurt me to lie to you for your own good once in a while," she answered assuming he was referring to the placebo.

"Not about that," he said. "Did it hurt you to know that Stacy and I had slept together?" He opened his eyes and turned to face her, but she refused to look him in the eye.

"Stop screwing with me House, and get out of the car, I need to go home."

"I'm not screwing with you. Answer the question and I'll leave."

Cuddy crossed her hands in her lap, and continued to stare out the window. "I was worried about you," she said honestly if not giving him a direct answer.

House stared at her and nodded. He truly couldn't say why he was even pushing her. Things seemed like they were finally getting back to normal between them. Why the hell would he want to complicate things now?

"Well you can stop worrying," he said, bringing himself back to the present instead of wallowing in the past. "I'm not your concern, never was." He opened the passenger door, dropped his cane into the snow and pushed himself out of the car, slamming the car a little harder than necessary before trekking back into the building.

* * *

_You're on fertility meds...with red clover as an herbal booster. _

The look on his face when he reveled to her that he knew her secret was the same look on his face years ago when he told her he knew about the pregnancy. It could only be described as restrained anger. It was almost as if she was going behind his back somehow, now like she did back then.

She didn't know why she was surprised that he knew; House always knew. But he kept her secret, from everyone, even his best friend. And when she asked him to help her, he was a willing participant. So willing it became almost intrusive. Almost comfortable.

"What did you want today?" House leaned on her door frame. He almost didn't come, but when she walked out of his office after thanking him for the injections, his curiosity got the better of him. She didn't invite him in; she just stood in her entryway, in a slip that barely covered her thighs, arms crossed in aggravation.

"Nothing," she lied. "I just…I don't think you should give me the injections anymore. If I'm going to do this, we'd be asking for trouble if you got involved."

"Oh." He shoved his hands in his pockets. He thought for sure she was going to ask him. He had been trying to think of a way to get it out of her and then decline without sounding too much like an ass. He hadn't fully decided on what he was going to tell her when she finally did ask, but was caught off guard by this confession that she actually did not want him involved. He also didn't believe her. "So, you're going to get someone else to do it?"

That fact that she had considered Wilson for the job, that idea that she might confide in him instead, stung House. He knew the two of them had bonded over their mutual frustrations with him, but until recently he never thought that Wilson might actually take an interest in her. The thought of it sickened him.

"I don't know," she said. "I just know that we shouldn't be doing this."

"Because we almost had a baby once, and now you regret it and you're ashamed to say that you want to try to have a baby with me again?" His voice was mocking her, but he meant every word. "That's what you came up to my office for."

"No, House. We never almost had a baby. I almost had an accident, and yes, I regret it now, but it has nothing to do with you."

"Then why did you come to see me today?" He was pushing her again. He had his hands on her doorframe so she couldn't shut him out, and if she tried to walk away he'd follow her. "It's because you still have feelings for me and you desperately want to have my babies." He was smiling now, exaggerating, hoping to make her smile, make her confess.

"House I came up there today, because I may have found a way to treat your leg pain. I wanted to talk to you about it, but it didn't feel like a good time."

House drew back slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"Ketamene. We could put you into a coma, and—"

"No," he said.

"No?"

"Cuddy, stop fucking trying to fix me! Jesus, for someone who claims to like me just the way I am, you sure do spend a hell of a lot of time trying to—"

"To what? I told if I could find a way to fix this I would…"

"Ketemene is not a solution. It changes brain chemistry; you would be essentially re-programming me without having any idea the effects it would have, and without knowing if it would even work."

"Isn't it worth the risk though if there was a chance you wouldn't have to live in constant pain anymore?" She took a step outside to place a hand on his arm, to tell him she was on his side, and she was just trying to help.

But House just shook his head. "No, it's not."

* * *

_Tell Cuddy…._

He was out for several days. They had detoxed him while he was under and when he finally started to come out of it a nurse was standing by his side, checking his IV.

"Dr. House?" She smiled. "Dr. Wilson and Dr. Cuddy asked me to page them as soon as you woke up."

House blinked, but then shook his head. "Don't page them yet," he said. His stomach was killing him, but the grilling pain in his thigh was gone. For a moment fear seized him. There was no pain, no numbness, no tingling; it was as if the leg wasn't there anymore. House reached out and dropped his hand down to find his leg still in tack. He closed his eyes. _She did it_, he thought. _She fixed me._

House pushed himself into a sitting position, but the nurse grabbed his shoulder. "Dr. House, your stitches haven't healed."

"I'm fine," he said brushing her off. He swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed and planted his bare feet on the cold tile.

"I'm calling Dr. Cuddy. You're not supposed to get out of bed yet."

House nodded to her, but didn't answer. He leaned the bulk of his weight down on his bad leg. Some slight pressure in his abdomen, but no pain in his leg. He let go of the bed and took a tentative step forward. And then another. Nothing. House grunted a laugh; last week such a small feat would've left him crumpled on the floor in agony, but not today.

House took a few more steps around the room, and he started to get light headed. Cuddy appeared in the door, ready to order him back into bed, until she saw him standing next to his bed without his cane and a silly grin on his face.

"House…" She lowered her voice and stepped close to him, "how do you feel?"

House leaned down on his leg again. "I feel…good." He turned his body in her direction though the dizzy sensation took over and he reached out for the bed but it wasn't there. Cuddy hooked her arm around him and he leaned on her.

"You just came out of a coma House, you have two gunshot wounds. You need to stay in bed."

"I worked Cuddy," he said as she helped him back into the bed. "My leg feels better."

"I'm glad." She pulled the sheet over him and dropped down into the seat next to him. "We still don't know if this will stick or if there's going to be any long term effects, okay so—"

He turned his head toward her. "Thank you for doing this."

Cuddy shook her head. When Chase had burst into her office and told her that House had been shot her own heart stopped. She had never been so scared. And when Cameron told her that House asked for Ketamine, she almost didn't believe her. He had been so adamantly against it a couple of nights before.

House was unconscious when Cuddy burst into the surgical bay, and told the surgeons to administer the Ketamine, knowing full well that if he woke up and the drug had no effect, or his cognitive abilities were somehow compromised he would blame her.

And even though he reached out for her hand now and thanked her; if it wore off he would blame her still. Only this time it would be worse. It would be as if she offered him a glimpse of a life he wanted and then brutally ripped it away from him.

She held his hand for several quiet moments, stroking his knuckles with her fingers and staring out the window. Wilson stepped into the room and Cuddy tentatively let go of House's hand.

"They told me you were awake," he said, stepping up to the bed. "How do you feel?"

House nodded. "Good," he said, "but Mistress Cuddy won't let me out of bed."

Wilson smiled down at Cuddy. She had jumped into the role of doctor again with him, only this time she may have healed him. Yet she still looked guilty. Unabsolved. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "You did a good thing Cuddy," he said.

She swallowed. "I just did what he asked."

"For once," House said. He was joking but it stung nonetheless.

"What made you decide to do it?" She asked him.

House turned and looked at both of them. His best friends, the only people in his life that he truly trusted and knew loved him no matter what. He owed them the truth.

"When I was shot," he started, "I had a…hallucination. The man that shot me did it because he wanted me to care about something; he wanted things to matter…" House looked back up at the ceiling. "I want things to matter," he whispered.

* * *

Cuddy put a bottle of aspirin on House's nightstand. She had brought him home that night on the condition that he stay in bed and call her or Wilson if he was feeling weak. "You're head starts to hurt, this is all you get, okay."

House nodded. "Are you gonna stay?" She pulled the covers over him and sat down on the bed.

"I wasn't planning on it. Why? You scarred he's gonna come back and finish the job?" She didn't realize how insensitive she was being until after the words left her mouth. But House wasn't angry, he just laughed.

"I doubt you'd be able to protect me in those," he nodded toward her pumps. "Unless of course you through on at his face and stabbed him in the eye." The both chuckled and then House said, "No, I just don't really want to be alone."

Cuddy nodded. "I can call Wilson."

"Why don't you want to stay?" He scooted up until he was sitting level with her. "You've been acting strange ever since I woke up."

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up okay," she was nearly whispering, her voice wet with regret, "in case this doesn't work."

"I know my chances," he said. "But everything feels good right now. Let me enjoy this."

Cuddy licked her lips. "I'll stay on the couch," she said.

"Thank you."

But no sooner than Cuddy had tucked her legs beneath her and pulled a throw over her body did House appear in the hallway.

"I can't sleep."

"You've barely tried."

"Maybe you should come cuddle up next to me," he said grinning. "Naked."

"No," she said. "But I could call Wilson."

"Shut up." He walked into the living room and dropped down on the couch next to her.

"You really need to be more careful, your stitches—"

"Could still pop out, yes I know." He stretched his legs out in front of him and let his hand fall over the scar on his thigh. He rubbed it out of habit, but stopped when he noticed Cuddy watching him. "It doesn't hurt," he assured her. "It just feels strange there now."

Cuddy didn't say anything, but pulled the blanket tighter around her.

"So…are you still doing the ivf?" He chanced a look in her direction. Cuddy, who had hoped beyond hope that he wouldn't bring this up shifted uncomfortably next to him.

"I told you I didn't want you involved," she said.

"Yeah, after you involved me. I've been thinking, and I really don't think this is a great idea—"

"House," Cuddy warned, "drop it or I'm leaving."

"Why do you want this so badly?" He asked.

Cuddy stood up and grabbed her jacket. "Goodnight House."

"Oh come on," he turned to face her as she opened the door. "Wouldn't you rather do it the old fashioned way? Mommy, Daddy, Goober. One big miserable family?"

Cuddy threw up her hands. "Who wouldn't rather have it that way? But as you've pointed out to me more times than I can count, I don't do relationships that well. If I waited for the real thing I'd never have a family."

"Not wanting to be alone isn't a good reason to have a kid Cuddy."

"Don't start lecturing me on my life choices."

"Why not, you lecture me on mine all the time."

Cuddy spun around and opened his front door and slammed it behind her.

* * *

_You owe me…_

It didn't take long after the pain inevitably came back that House started to spin out of control. He brushed it off like it didn't matter, like he expected that it would. And when Cuddy admitted her lie about the Addison's patient, he loved her more for believing him. But he hated her for the pain. When he ignored her, when he abused her, she took it all. When he got arrested, she found him a lawyer, when he screamed at her and made her cry, she brushed it off and went back to work. When he found himself lying in a puddle of his own vomit, not caring if he lived or died, Wilson first called an ambulance and second called Cuddy. She was right there in the middle of the night. And when he ran out of options and burned every other bridge, Cuddy took the stand and lied threw her teeth.

If that wasn't enough for him to admit to himself what she meant to him, when she told him she was giving up the IVF and he felt guilt, genuine guilt, for pushing her into believing she would be a failure.

"I said I was sorry. I was in pain, I didn't mean what I said…"

"It wasn't you, House. I just think it wasn't meant to be."

"Obviously you don't want it bad enough then." He circled her desk, trying to goad her into fighting back, to not giving up. He felt for the first time in a long time like they were sharing something. It was dysfunctional, but it was theirs.

"How many times to I have to say the words, _none of your business_? Stay out of it, House."

* * *

_I don't want to be miserable…._

When she died, and it was his fault his world collapsed. Cuddy was there to hold his hand again. He was becoming dependant on that. He risks his life; she holds his hand and makes him better. He honestly wouldn't know what to do with himself if he woke up in a hospital bed and she wasn't there. But everything else was gone. Amber was gone; Wilson was gone.

There was a time when House resented Amber for taking his friend away. But the happier Wilson was the more he saw in them, what he wanted for himself. When she died she took all of the hope with her.

Wilson came back eventually, though he still hurt. Every day, he missed her. House wanted to talk with him about it but he was too afraid to bring it up. Too afraid to tell his friend that even though it's not the same, he lost something too. Because of her, a part of House had died. The part that was complacent about his loneliness and misery, the part that didn't need more, was also gone.

* * *

_Why do you need to negate everything?_

He honestly couldn't say what brought him to her house that night. He understood pain better than anyone else, and thought for a moment that he could understand hers, and maybe even make her feel better. He told her what he thought she wanted to hear and she unleashed her pain on him like venom. But fools rush in where even demons fear to tread. Between Amber and his dad, between Wilson and the prospect of losing Cuddy to another life that didn't include him, he couldn't hold it back any longer. He whipped her up in his arms and kissed her like it might be the last time. And to his amazement she didn't slap him, didn't rationalize or tell him to get out because she wasn't going down that road again. No. She fell into him as hard as he had fallen into her, and she pleaded with him to stay, to make it all go away. But it was the pain talking, it wasn't her.

Never had it been so hard for him to pull away from anything or anyone in his life. It was easy for them to write it off as nothing, and in fact she did just that first thing in the morning. For all the good it did. He had ignited something in both of them, which had been long buried. He knew it and wasn't afraid to admit it (to himself at least) but it wasn't his fears that stopped him from telling her. It was hers.

Nothing between them had changed since their last failed attempt at a relationship. He was who he was, and she didn't trust him enough to believe that if given the chance, he wouldn't wreck her heart. If history was any indication, she had good reason to believe it too. He realized that as he watched her through her window. He had come armed with platitudes, and ready to confess all, to change his life, to pull her in. And she would come willingly, but it wasn't him she wanted. She would use him to fill a hole, to replace a child or a man she knew twenty-five years ago.

Twenty-five years ago when he had left her in Michigan, he gave her a desk and told her he loved her (a sentiment that she in fact never actually returned). Now when she pursued him, because she had given up on becoming a mother, and he had hurt her in order to remind her of what she was getting herself into, he regretted ever coming to her house and kissing her. He'd opened up a door that was better locked and bolted up tight. Now he'd never get her out of his system now, not a chance.

He clicked on his computer and typed in Cuddy's password. He pulled up her personal address book, and the picked up the phone.

"Hi, Mrs. Cuddy," he cleared his throat. "I'm calling from L&L contractor's… a Dr. Lisa Cuddy asked us to call you about a desk you have in storage….yes that's the one. She's remodeling her office, and she'd like us to pick up the desk and have it sent here….Tomorrow's perfect."

He hung up the phone and cursed under his breath. _What the hell are you doing?_

_

* * *

  
_

_You can't always get what you want….._

If Cuddy ignoring the desk wasn't enough for him to resign himself to the fact that he had lost his chance with her, Rachel pretty much sealed that deal. When she told him her plan to adopt the baby girl, there was so much he could've said. _She's sick, probably brain damaged. You won't be able to handle her, it'll be too much for you_. But he didn't say any of those things. He wanted her to know that he didn't always have to negate everything. And despite his protests, the baby girl started to grow on him from the moment she puked on his shirt.

That's why it hurt even more tonight to know that Cuddy and the baby and Wilson and just about everyone else he knew were together and celebrating and he was alone. Again.

By the time midnight rolled around House was drunk enough to pick up the phone, but not so drunk he would be obnoxious. He decided it was time to put an end to this, so he dialed Cuddy's number and waited. Everyone would be gone by then and Rachel would be asleep. But not Cuddy. She picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"How was it?" He asked her tapping at the keys on his piano.

"It was nice." She had gone to bed, but couldn't fall asleep. The fact that everyone was there, everyone was smiling, and House was home alone, had upset her, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something had been missing from the night.

"That's it? You don't want to tell me all about it?"

"I kind of thought you would've just shown up." She shivered under her duvet.

"You told me not to." House sipped his bourbon and then started aimlessly tapping the keys on his piano.

"That's never stopped you before."

House smiled and started to play the song he had written earlier that night. "I was there in spirit," he said.

"The spirit of hypocritical Jews present?" She said, and she listened to Rachel stir on the baby monitor. She slipped out from under the sheet, slid on a pair of socks and pulled her robe around her. House hadn't said anything for a few moments. "Goodnight House," she said as she stepped into Rachel's room.

"We have to stop playing games like this Cuddy." He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, and moved both hands onto the keyboard. Cuddy stopped over Rachel's bed and stared at her daughter who had woken up and was squirming uncomfortably.

"I'm not," she said, lowering her voice. She picked Rachel up and felt that her diaper was wet. "You've been acting different ever since—"

"We've both been acting different," he said. "I just don't want to do this anymore." She didn't respond. "Cuddy?"

"That's pretty, that song you're playing," she said finally. She had put the phone on speaker as she changed the baby's diaper and they both had been staring at the receiver listing to him play.

"Thanks." He slid into _Have I Told You Lately_ as Cuddy laid Rachel down on her back in the crib, and pulled a blanket over her. She grabbed the phone and turned off the speaker.

"We both know a relationship between us would never work. We would both screw it up, not just me."

"I'm not an easy person to be with; I know that. But I wouldn't walk away from you. Even back then, if you had never lost that baby—"

"House please don't talk about that," she pleaded, feeling a pang at the distant painful memory.

"So, then what? You think we should keep trashing each other's offices, lying and trying to manipulate each other to prove that we don't give a crap?" He had stopped playing and just stared at the keys.

"No. I just want things back to normal."

"What does that mean?"

"I—I'm not sure anymore. I just know that if we were to be together I would have to be able to love you for who you are; not who you have the potential to be." She slipped back into bed, though she was sure, her sleep would be restless, if she was able to sleep at all.

House's mind started racing. "And what if I could be that guy?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, a little worried.

"Nothing," he said, his voice now distant. "Goodnight Cuddy."

**FIN**

* * *

**A/N: **So that's the end. I actually had a different ending to this story in mind, but then I saw 'Unfaithful' and completely changed the ending (that's what took so long for me to update). Thanks so so much to those of you who stuck with the story...I love you peeps to death and I hope you enjoyed it, and I would love to hear what you think (even if you didn't love it)... I'm also still playing with the idea of a sequel that would use this history, but it would be a kind of alternate universe kind of thing, that would split off from the show...what say you all? would you read such a thing?

Oh, also...there is a song by Damian Rice you might check out called "I Remember"...I listened to it a lot while writing this story, and the title came from there...


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